The Greatest Prison
by evevee
Summary: Tracer never talked about her time as a lost soul. She's known now as the excitable Brit, the puppy of Overwatch, the fearless point on any offensive. Winston had always suspected some form of trauma, and Widow had proved that at King's Row. Unbeknownst to all, her true terror approaches, and as one wise man once said, "If you were his enemy...may god help you."
1. A Lesson in Fear

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **Wrote this today as a quick little thing when I noticed the lack of Halo/OW stories. Kind of have a plan for where I'd go with the next few chapters but after that it'd be a bit of a ramble, to be honest. If people are interested I can write a little more, though I won't promise quick updates.**

* * *

Tracer couldn't remember what it felt like to touch something. She recalled a distant memory of sensation, perhaps the feeling of a chair to sit in or gravity pulling her down, but that was it. She had no idea how long she had been lost, time hadn't mattered since the accident. Her first sign of trouble had been the fluctuations of the portal generator on the Slipstream jet. Before she could do anything, the jet, and everything else she had known, was gone.

From then on her existence became nothing but a blur, flashes of events and people, but never anything tangible. She sat by and watched the world go on without her. Eventually she had given up on any hope of rescue or release from her own personal hell. Any feelings she once had were forgotten in lieu of her current blank slate. What point was there to try and feel if there was no one to hold her, speak to her, acknowledge her. She may as well have been a ghost, lost in time.

At first, she had fought with all she could muster, trying to find a way out of her incorporeal state. Yet every time she came close, the portal would engulf her, displacing her and undoing any sense of hope she had held. She gave up on returning, gave up on feeling. Everything became gray and lifeless in her eyes, not that it made a difference when the only thing that stayed the same was her own withered body. The pain that had hounded her for what seemed like forever became nothing more than a bother, soon forgotten amidst the pain of teleportation.

Every time the portal had appeared, it did so with a flash of light before quickly forming into what had to be the darkest dark possible. No matter what she did, Tracer always fell into the silent pit, unable to stop her own distorted form from being drawn inside. The first time, when she had been pulled from the Slipstream jet, it hurt beyond what she had thought possible.

Her limbs were twisted into shapes that she could not even comprehend. Whatever dimensions the place possessed, they did not match with the human perception. Her bones were broken and reformed and then broken again, each and every moment. Time held no meaning as her entire body was pulled apart, held together by nothing and everything at once. An instant later or after an impossibly long time, the portal had dropped her back out. Her mind was still processing the pain, trying to cope with what had happened, so she didn't notice it wasn't where she was supposed to be until much later.

That had started her escape attempts, which ended the same way every time. The portal would appear in front of her, draw her in, and destroy her will before spitting her back out to start again. Her body was not permanently harmed, but her mental state deteriorated quickly. Tracer had no choice but to stop feeling, for the disappointment and pain of every failure slowly crushed her mind. And so it was that she existed, albeit not living but not able to have the mercy of death either.

Her first indication that something was different was the light. Instead of the undulating darkness that normally held the portal open, there was instead a solid ring of purple that outlined the smooth edge. There was nothing she could do as she was sucked in except prepare for the pain, the twisting and cracking of bone and muscle as it was torn and reshaped. The pain never came. There was slight discomfort, but as she looked at her knees curled beside her there was no distortion.

She tried to feel happy, perhaps excited that someone had finally found her, or at least managed to stop the pain. But once again, there was nothing. A blank slate, naught but a canvas upon which nothing would sit. Forever lost to the eddies of time and space.

Eventually the portal deposited her, as it always did, in some random location. Instead of the dull roar that usually accompanied the closure of the anomaly, only silence was heard as the tear vanished. Tracer had no idea how long it had been that'd she'd been lying there, not that she cared. Anyone that would encounter her wouldn't see her, hear her, or even know that she was there, if she in fact even was. Even if the pain of transport had stopped, she had no interest in leaving her curled position on the floor.

That was when the second indication that something was different. As Tracer went to lay her head against whatever surface she had landed upon, she noticed that she could actually _feel_ the coldness of the metal on her body. Yet still there was no stir of emotion, no surprise or even a hint of caring that she was once more tangible. Even if she could feel the surface, it was the same dark palate that pervaded her existence, choking out what excitement she once possessed.

She continued staring at the ground, ignoring everything around her, waiting for the next bout of pain. She hadn't eaten for however long she had been trapped her, hadn't had anything to drink without the ability to touch. It was easier to lay down and give up, to stop moving and worrying about what happened wherever she was. The first several suicide attempts had only led to a portal and more pain, which cut off that escape. Tracer had accepted that there was no way to leave this hell and live, but as far as she knew there was no way to escape by death either.

Her thoughts came to a halt as the metal beneath her vibrated. It was odd after so long of not being able to sense the world around you. She had never noticed the small things until they were no longer present. The air against her skin, breath in her lungs, the small tremors as something walked across the floor. Her eyes were drawn to the cause of those tremors, the green metal plates leading up into a leg in her peripheral before her field of view ended.

Whatever it was, it must've been heavy considering how even the solid surface beneath her shook at its steps. Each cautious stride brought the being closer, investigating something out of place from the portal most like.

The gruff, "Identify yourself!" drew her eyes from the boots of the being towards its head. Tracer took in the large metal plates that protected it, along with the black suit underneath that obviously was not just aesthetic either. Her eyes wandered farther up, taking in the massive chest piece and armored forearms. She paused long enough to take in the utilitarian design before disregarding it as useless information and continuing up to its face.

Or rather, where a face would normally be. Instead, all Tracer could see was herself, reflected from the golden plate in front of her. Looking at her. Something about that bothered her greatly, yet she couldn't pin it down. Ultimately, it was one more detail that she would never bother to remember amidst the pain. She looked behind her, expecting something to be there, or perhaps even inside her incorporeal body, as had happened before. There was nothing, just blank metal floor back to a wall stacked with crates.

Tracer turned back, expecting the being to be looking elsewhere, but still it looked down upon her. A small downshift of its head showed it was examining her pilot suit. She realized what had bothered her about that. It was looking at her. It _saw_ her.

She sat up as fast as her body would allow, her eyes focused completely upon the gold mask. Words were on the tip of her tongue, questions, demands, pleas for help. Before she could say anything or even move more than a few inches, there was a weapon pointed straight at her.

Tracer stopped, knowing that whatever this was, it was far beyond her in her current state. Her eyes stared into themselves, the reflection almost mesmerizing. That was when she noticed its stance, the way it moved, or rather didn't. There was no sound, no movement, no indication that drawing its weapon had affected anything it might do. She hadn't even seen the being move, only a blur before the barrel was before her.

So she did nothing but stare into the gaze of what must be a soldier. And as she looked into that visage, into the reflection of her etiolated form, Tracer felt herself flicker. She saw her eyes widen before the world went black. Then, with a small pulse of white, Tracer saw the truth.

The wars of Overwatch were nothing. They were a small group doing good things in a small world. Whatever was standing before her, looking down upon her, had fought the real wars. Made the decisions that would decide the fate of millions, faced the forces of the galaxy. And it had won. She blinked in and out of time, flashes of the dead and dying appearing before her, and around her planets annihilated to naught but ash. She curled in on herself, horrified at the atrocities committed, the lives lost. The images were endless, her thin connection to time blending the scenes together into one long horror show. Tracer didn't know what was when or who was where, there were too many.

And then they stopped. Tracer froze, once more looking upon the unyielding golden front. In it, herself, curled into a ball, tears running down her face. Around her lay various objects, floating in the air as if gravity did not work in this place. The hard metal surfaces told her nothing, for there was nothing to tell that did not stand before her. Staring at her, evaluating her, questioning her very existence.

For the first time in however long she had been lost in time, Tracer felt something. It was at first but a twinge, a small spark amongst the gray facade of her being. As she stared at the massive being before her, that spark grew, It was slow, a little flicker when she noticed the gun pointed at her head, the tensed stance, the unfamiliar setting. Then she began to make sense of what she had seen of this past. The death, the chaos, the fear. So the spark grew into a flame.

She felt her heartbeat, another sensation she had lost as she descended into nothing. Her hands released their death grip on her curled legs, slowly coming around to cover her heart. She looked away from the being before her to see her splayed fingers resting on her chest. A steady rhythm pulsed beneath her palms, accompanied by whatever feeling had risen from before. She snapped her head back up as the being moved its head, still looking straight at her. Tracer realized what was happening, what was almost inevitable. She had invaded this being's space, seen into a past that she should not have seen. In the process, she had regained a part of what made her human, but the one in front of her was ready to end her invasion. And so the flame grew into an inferno, freezing her limbs and locking her gaze once more into her golden reflection. She knew what she was feeling, her brain catching up to her situation but not reacting. For the first time in her life, Tracer could not help herself, could not fly away, could not even think. But for the first time in forever, she _cared_ that she couldn't help herself.

And in that moment, frozen in an unknown location with an unknown being in an unknown time, as her vision faded and the world became black, Tracer knew the meaning of terror.


	2. Arrival

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **The** _ **Slipstream Jet**_ **that Tracer was lost in seems to be a Halo reference. Utilizes the 'Slipstream' to teleport objects across a great distance, time dilation effects, known to cause personnel to disappear. Coincidence, reference, or science?**

 **I feel kind of 'myeh' on the quality of this chapter. I usually spend a bit more time world-building, but seeing as there's not much to build _on_ in Overwatch at this point I can accept it. It's fairly fast paced. **

* * *

Chief was surprised, which was quite the feat considering he had just returned from one of the strangest missions of his career. While the Ark and the enemies on it had presented a threat, the girl that had just appeared in the vehicle bay of the Dawn was no such thing. From the way she had stayed prone on the floor, she was either hurt or in pain. When Chief had approached she'd seemed confused and lost, not surprising considering where she was. It had been habit that brought his weapon to bear when she jerked upright, an action he somewhat regretted when she passed out.

The pedestal beside him lit up as Cortana appeared on top. She looked down at the figure on the floor with a frown before crossing her arms and glaring at the Chief. "Congratulations, you've successfully saved us all from a defenseless girl."

At her scolding the Spartan lowered his MA5C and relaxed his stance, though he kept his eyes on the contact. The girl was dressed in what looked to be pilot's gear from the twenty-first century, although she lacked the thick jacket that was usually standard with such uniforms. Instead her torso was covered by a thin undershirt, likely some form of fire-resistant compression material to stimulate blood flow.

After quickly searching her for weapons or identification and finding neither, Chief noticed her shiver once more and curl tightly into a fetal position. He placed his MA5 once more upon his back as he spoke, "How did she get here?"

Cortana paused for a second to process the available information before responding, "It appears that she is caught in some form of localized slipstream space. From how she appeared, I'm guessing a cascade failure of a slipspace drive resulted in a fluctuation in the slipstream. She was unlucky enough to get caught in it. The Ark portal probably intercepted the unstable bubble and contained it, dropping her here."

"Any previous reports that could match?" the Spartan asked from beside the prone figure. There had been no identification in the various pockets of her pants, although he had located a symbol at least. The small circular pseudo-peace sign adorned several pieces of clothing, though the Chief had never seen such a symbol before and thus was back at square one.

"Negative, at least none that I have on record. Of all the reports on personnel disappearing near slipspace drives before, none mention the reappearance or survival of any victims," the AI responded.

Chief nodded his acknowledgement as he knelt down and carefully, if slightly awkwardly, lifted the girl off the floor. He turned and made his way through the corridors of the Dawn to the barracks. While the bunks would be fairly uncomfortable for a civilian, they would be better than laying on the cold deck plating. As he carried her further into the ship and away from the cold air of the vehicle bay, the girl curled into his chest plate, likely due to the residual warmth from the explosions on the Halo.

He knew Cortana could tell he was unsure of the situation, and he also knew that her taunts were inevitable. Right on cue the AI's teasing voice came from his helmet's speakers, "Well, looks like the caveman has a heart of gold after all."

Dutifully ignoring the jibe, Chief responded, "Where's the Arbiter?"

"Currently in the Dawn's cockpit. I'll let him know we have an unexpected passenger." With that Cortana stopped speaking, letting the Chief make his way through the silent corridors, only the sound of his footsteps echoing around the empty ship. After reaching the barracks and laying the girl on of of the beds with a blanket draped over her form, he made his way up to the bridge of the frigate.

As he entered the Arbiter gave a nod to the Spartan before turning back to the command console. Chief sat down in the seat next to the Sangheili and started to run some basic diagnostics, nothing Cortana couldn't have done but something to keep him distracted. Eventually he reached the slipspace drive, the basic Shaw-Fujikawa drive that was standard in all UNSC vessels. Looking at the information presented, he noticed an irregularity warning from the field drivers. Before he could ask, the Arbiter spoke "I can't maintain the slipstream field with these shifts. We're going to have to drop out before it collapses. Is the human secured?"

"Affirmative," was the adequate, if slightly vague answer. The Arbiter nodded without looking, apparently too engrossed in whatever it was that he was doing. Cortana's avatar appeared on the bridge pedestal, lighting up the helm and the two warriors on it with a soft blue light.

The Arbiter was the first to address her, "Construct, is there anything you can do to stabilize our jump?" The AI crossed her arms and looked to the side, a posture that the Chief instantly recognized as nervousness.

"The Ark portal had collapsed. The only thing keeping us in the slipstream is the Dawn's slipspace drive," she responded. Her tone was clipped, as if she were distracted with something puzzling.

"We don't have exit coordinates," the Chief said, putting the pieces together almost immediately. The Arbiter twisted his head around to look at the AI as well, his time as a Covenant fleetmaster allowing him to know exactly what such a situation meant. Without an exit vector or coordinates, where and _when_ they left the slipstream would be completely unpredictable.

Cortana hesitated for a moment before countering, "Not exactly." She disappeared and an image of the _Forward Unto Dawn_ appeared in her place. The slipstream field surrounding the ship was shown, at least as best something with eleven dimensions could be shown in the standard context of three dimensional space. Along with the outside field, however, was a highlighted bubble of oscillating slipstream within the Dawn. Cortana continued, "Without the Ark or Earth portal to guide us and no exit vector specified, the drive would default to drop out at a random location. However, the drive locked onto a different signature, and at this point there's nothing we can do about it."

At that statement the Chief rose from beside the Arbiter and examined the model of the Dawn. It wasn't hard to conclude that the mysterious human girl was the new slipstream catalyst, but even so the Spartan wanted to confirm it. Cortana pulled up a window to the side of the model, showing the unconscious form underneath the blanket. Nothing untoward appeared wrong with her, aside from the fact that she was unconscious. Chief looked out the observation glass of the bridge as the Arbiter asked, "Do we know where this human guides us then?"

The image of the girl disappeared to allow Cortana to stand beside the image of the Dawn. She grimaced as she looked at the slipstream field and said, "That's the issue. I don't know where we'll exit, which, while mildly inconvenient, wouldn't be much of a problem in the long run. The real question is when we'll exit, and that is something that will be much more challenging to fix." A snap of her fingers and the field inside the barracks was enlarged. "The distortions in the field are the dimension of time as it exists in the slipstream. In the slipstream, time is represented as a physical manifestation, hence why plating and shielding needs to be rated to withstand those forces, among other reasons. Whoever this girl is, she entered the slipstream but whatever vehicle she was in wasn't made to withstand the forces of slipspace. It fell apart, stranding her within the stream and rending the field around her. She likely drifted around space and time, physically torn from the drive that brought her here. Not much is known about what exactly happens in such a situation, but there's no records of anyone surviving in the slipstream without a drive to direct and anchor them. When the Ark portal found the inconsistency, it stabilized it and synchronized her to the Dawn with some Forerunner technology yet unknown to us. Neither the UNSC or Covenant have that level of mastery over slipspace. However, with the Ark portal now collapsed, the Dawn's slipspace drive is maintaining her anchor on board. That brings us to the current problem in that the Dawn is keeping her anchored, but without coordinates it's following the slipspace vector that she's in. I don't know what the designers of whatever drive she was using did, but she somehow managed to disconnect from whatever slipspace coordinates she used to enter the stream. It's almost as if three dimensional coordinates were entered to travel in the eleven dimensions of slipspace, but first they were put through some form of alteration, a matrix or something like it. She's not where or when she's supposed to be."

"So, time travel?" asked the Chief.

Cortana pursed her lips, thinking on how to best explain what was happening. "Of a sort, but not controlled like it was with the Forerunner crystal from Reach. While not entirely accurate, the best explanation would be that she's from an alternate universe. Think of slipspace as a series of sheets. To go forward is to change your position relative to where you entered. Up and down would be to go forward or back in time, and to go sideways would be to break out of the standard four dimensions. Of course there is no absolute direction in space, but it's the best concept that UNSC theorists have."

"The Covenant does not know much more than those basics as well. Our drives may make a cleaner slip, but ultimately we do not have any better of a grasp on what slipspace actually is. According to what few records we have, even the Forerunners were limited in their knowledge of the slipstream. They could move forward or back in time to a limited degree, but doing so created slipstream debt," the Arbiter added.

"Are they a threat?" Chief asked. If a race as advanced as the Forerunners couldn't utilize the slipstream in the way these people had, then being prepared for hostilities became priority.

The AI shook her head and responded, "There's a negligible chance of any form of threat. Based on the gear it was likely some form of jet aircraft, at least judging by the flight pants and compression material. They were likely just beginning to experiment with slipspace technology, not knowing the dangers associated with it. Any slipstream-rated vessel would be far too large to need any form of pressurization gear. This girl was lost by accident, any drift she's experienced in the slipstream would be extremely difficult to replicate. The only reason the Dawn is able to do so is because the slipstream field around the girl has a specific set of entry coordinates. How those coordinates stay constant even after movement throughout the slipstream is something we don't know."

"What of the human? Will she live?" the Arbiter inquired.

"How she is alive after drifting in the slipstream is in and of itself absolutely amazing. I can hypothesize as to what will happen when we exit slipspace, but there's no way to know for sure. The most likely outcome would be that we drop out of slipspace and she loses her anchor, drifting into the slipstream once more. It is possible that the group that originally lost her has attempted to recover her but could not due to the slipstream drift she experienced. If that's the case then she may disappear from the ship as the Dawn exits slipspace and the slipstream field around her returns to its original position. If they, whoever that may be, have set up an anchor then she wouldn't drift, although she might fade in and out with the distortions in the slipspace field. I don't know, although I would be most amiable to finding out," Cortana explained. A lot of the information she was presenting was merely the application of theoretical concepts to the current situation. Such long monologues were not uncommon when her and the Chief had some downtime, as the Spartan was about as talkative as a mute brick when he didn't have questions or orders.

"Understood, your explanations have been of great help construct," the Arbiter said. He rose from the pilot's seat and addressed the Chief, "For now, I shall rest. The battle was long, but we are victorious." The Spartan nodded silently in return, not needing to make any other motion. With that the Sangheili made his way off the bridge and down to one of the officers cabins, close to the helm and with space to accommodate him.

"You should take that as a hint," Cortana teased. The Spartan looked towards her, ignoring the model of the Dawn as it disappeared and the AI sat down in the middle of the plinth.

They hadn't had any time to talk since he had recovered her from the ruins of High Charity, and from what the Chief had seen it was not a pleasant experience for her. He trusted her just as much as he did any other Spartan, a high bar to reach, but he knew she could be stubborn. The AI accused him of being obstinate but they both knew he wasn't the only one. Chief turned to make his way off the bridge, but before he exited he spoke softly, "Wake me, if you need me."

At Cortana's nod of understanding, he exited the helm and made his way to the mess hall to pick up several MRE's. Having sated the hunger of fighting almost nonstop during the battle for the Ark, he replaced his helmet, laid back, and let his eyes close.

* * *

A leap to the left, blink to the right and then straight up. Each movement was accompanied by a flurry of shots from her pistols, not necessarily hitting anything but providing a bit of suppressive fire. The Talon operatives she was harassing answered her with a hail of bullets, all missing as she performed her antics. A giggle made its way out, only serving to enrage the enemy even more. One of them broke from his cover and tried to engage her head on, his rifle firing wildly while he tried to close the distance.

Tracer laughed as she blinked behind him and put several shots into his side, the compressed energy pulse puncturing his uniform and entering his ribcage. With a pained grunt the black-clad figure fell to the ground, hands gripping his wounds. This prompted the remaining Talon soldiers to exit cover and lay down suppressing fire, attempt to hit Tracer as she flashed around the battlefield. Such a move exposed their flanks to the incessant barrage of Tracer's pulse pistols. Within seconds the team of six all lay dead, one from an energy pulse to the brain, another with multiple wounds across his chest, and three more blown apart from a pulse bomb.

With another giggle Tracer recalled back to the center of the carnage and struck a pose with her hands on her hips. She couldn't help but think that such an action would look nicer if her foot wasn't planted in the minced remains of one agent's ribcage. A grimace made its way to her face as she pulled her foot free and shook it, trying to get the burnt scraps of flesh off.

She uttered a soft, "Aw, rubbish," at seeing the stains on the white boots before dismissing it for later and turning back to the mission objective. Tracer's current purpose was fighting off a Talon operation that was targeting a group of omnics residing in King's Row. Apparently they wanted to detonate an EMP to ignite omnic-human conflict in the area, although Tracer still wasn't any closer to figuring out why they'd want to do such a thing.

For the moment she had only seen the normal black-clad soldiers that made up the main part of Talon's forces, although they had sent a full platoon for this mission. Their bodies were scattered along the road of King's Row, the last six being the ones Tracer had just eliminated. She hadn't seen any sign of Talon commanders, which was odd considering the amount of manpower the group had devoted to this end. Talon wasn't ignorant, they knew sending their men head on against an Overwatch agent alone would be suicide. The obvious thing to do would be to send Widowmaker to provide covering fire, but seeing as there was no sniper fire then the assassin couldn't be present.

Her thoughts were drawn to the fight with the Talon operative in this same place, along with her failure. She glanced at the towering statue of Tekhartha Mondatta that had been put up after his assassination, almost like a personal taunt at the Overwatch agent. Tracer narrowed her eyes as her thoughts went down that path. She continued to think on the events of that night as she casually fired several shots from her weapons into the electronics of the payload. As the circuits sparked and fused to render the EMP worthless, Tracer flopped down next to the payload cart and stored her pistols in their sheathes.

Looking down at her chronal harness, she vividly remembered seeing Widowmaker firing at it. The feeling of her heart racing as she blink out of the way of the bullet, the fear that it had been damaged and she'd be lost once again. Disappointment and guilt also marked that experience, for her failure to protect and because she wasn't strong enough to recall and take the bullet for the omnic leader. While muted at this point, the anger that had raced through her at the time was still present every time she encountered the Talon sniper.

What she held onto, however, was the question that had been annoying her since the incident. Widowmaker seemed to think it some kind of joke at the time, but the next time Tracer had her pinned it'd be the first thing she asked. The simple question of _Why_?

Tracer had seen Mondatta as a guiding figure, a possible way for her to attain peace within herself. Even if she could not find such within herself, the principle of allowing others to live in peace was a worthy goal in her mind. Never should the world have to face the horrors of conflict like what she had seen while lost in time. Life was too short to be wasted with such misery as war. Tracer had seen how fleeting life could be, and why anyone would want to shorten it even further was beyond her.

Shaking her head to clear it of the grotesque images that would always be with her, Tracer keyed into the Overwatch communication set to report, "King's Row is under control!"

"Excellent job, Lena. Get out of sight but stick around until the authorities arrive to clean up. Make sure to get some rest," Winston responded.

Tracer laughed and said, "You got it, luv! Maybe take your own advice and give the peanut butter rest too." Before Winston could grumble about the parting shot, the Overwatch agent cut the comm and got up from beside the disabled weapon. Lena gave a sloppy salute with two fingers at the bodies in front of her before leaping onto the payload and then blinking to the rooftops. Within a couple of minutes she had found a nice little perch to watch and make sure the authorities gained possession of the bomb.

What she did not expect to see, however, was the form of Widowmaker drop down from a nearby building. The Talon assassin made her way over to the EMP device while disregarding the bodies around her. Tracer couldn't see exactly what she did but it must not have worked for after a second the blue woman turned from the cart. She shot out her grapple and disappeared around the corner of one of the buildings as several emergency vehicles pulled up to the carnage.

With her work completed, Tracer shot off the roof and blink across the gap created by the street below. She continued to fly over the rooftops before eventually catching up to the Talon agent. Tracer was sure that if Winston knew what she was doing he'd suspend her from any missions for months. As she watched, Widowmaker stopped at the edge of the roof above a small, dark alley, looking down at something below. A second later there was a scream and a gunshot. Before Tracer could move any closer, Widow extended her rifle and fired, followed shortly by a muffled thump.

Lena quickly blinked to the side of Widow and saw the scene below. A child lay bleeding on the filthy street, a gunshot wound to his head. What the Talon agent had shot, however, was the assailant, who was laying on his back, a large exit wound evident on his chest. A quick glance to the side told Tracer that Widowmaker had yet to notice her presence, although Lena was less concerned with that and more focused on the expression on Widow's face. The assassin was looking down at the child on the ground with what could only be sadness. That expression turned into anger when her gaze fell to the assailant, who at this point was coughing up large globs of blood. Widow scowled at his suffering before turning around to continue her dash across the buildings of King's Row.

Only to freeze as she came face to face with a madly grinning Tracer. Widowmaker's eyes widened as she took a step back, but before she could do anything else Tracer blinked straight into her. The two of them tumbled across roof, eventually coming to a stop against a metal duct unit with Tracer straddling the surprised sharpshooter. Before Widowmaker could try to grapple her way out of the situation Lena pinned her hands against the metal behind her.

"What'cha lookin' at?" Tracer asked in a playful voice. If there was one thing Tracer could be sure of, it was that she was an absolute annoyance to the Talon sniper.

True to her predictions, Widowmaker hissed, "An annoyance," in response.

Tracer just laughed at the answer and pressed, "Why?"

Widowmaker glared at the happy girl and then looked to the side and said, "You would not understand, _chérie_. As always."

"Give it a shot, luv. You won't scare me!" Lena declared.

"Which is precisely why you cannot understand. You take everything as a joke, something to be played with. The absence of fear shows that you are but a foolish girl, unknowing of the cruelties of the world." Widowmaker's response came in a harsh tone, more of an accusation of innocence than anything else.

Lena narrowed her eyes and took on a pensive expression as she replied, "Or perhaps I do understand what brutality is inflicted on a daily basis, but I recognize that it could be much worse. The world will never be perfect, luv; but whereas you try to bring conflict to the world, I try to preserve the peace."

Their eyes met, Lena's with a soft edge and Widowmaker's wide once more in surprise. After a few seconds she found her voice, "You wish to know why I kill for Talon? So be it. Where Overwatch would seek to protect, Talon wishes to kill. So they made me, for what better way to kill than with someone who lives to do so? Men must die, this is _fait accompli_ , as true as any bullet. _C'est la vie, Comme il faut_. Life, as it should be."

"So long as men die, liberty will never perish. That is the way of life,"Tracer said with a hard glint in her eyes. Memories flashed across her vision, unseen by Widowmaker. Slowly, Lena leaned down to bring her face mere inches from the blue woman's own, keeping their eyes locked the entire time. Tracer finished with a whisper, "What you have wrong, luv, is those who are dying." Before Widow could react, Tracer pecked her straight on the lips.

The Talon agents body stiffened, caught once more by surprise. She could nothing but stare directly into Tracer's eyes as the brit smiled widely and said, "Cheers, love," in a cheeky tone.

And then she was off, a trail of blue following her as she blinked out of sight. Within minutes, Tracer was back at her small apartment in one of London's boroughs. Entering the three room flat, she tried to stop smiling. The effort continued as she made herself a meal and washed off the gore on her outfit from her mission. It didn't work. By the time she was in the twin-sized bed, her grin was just as large as when she first got home. As Lena fell asleep, there was no doubt in her mind that her happiness wouldn't be gone by the morning either.

* * *

Far above the surface of the moon, well beyond the noticeable influence of the planet it orbited, a small speck of darkness appeared against the backdrop of stars. It was not seen, for it was as dark as any other area of the vast void that existed around it. It was not heard, for there was no one around to hear it.

So unnoticed did the point blossom into a massive circle, blotting out the stars behind it. From the unlit depths of this tear emerged a trio of thin metal points, a herald for the massive vessel that followed. Within seconds the true size was revealed as the ship emerged from the portal, engines flaring as it began to maneuver in real space. After a few minutes passed, the vessel gained its bearings and turned towards the planet.

At its back, the moon's marred surface. Before it, both the oldest and now newest planet in the databanks. The _Forward Unto Dawn_ had returned to an Earth, albeit not the one they knew. For the moment, they would observe, watch, and learn. Unknown to the massive frigate, however, was that while their entry had not been noticed, their advance was observed.

* * *

Down on the surface of the Earth, buried beneath layers of rock and tunnels, Winston looked at the alert flashing on the screens. They had no images, no idea what it was. It had emerged from absolutely nowhere, appearing from nothing. Whatever _it_ was. All Athena could deduce from what few orbital assets Overwatch had left was that it was large, and it was on a direct course to enter orbit. Typing quickly, the scientist pulled up a list for any available matches of the object.

The size was far larger than anything ever launched into space, either for the lunar colony or the various stations in orbit. No nation had to capability to build such a large object as most were embroiled in the Second Omnic Crisis, and a construction project on an object of that size would be a massive undertaking that would use valuable resources for a long shot hope. Even with the devastated network of Overwatch Winston would've heard something about it.

So he continued to watch and wonder as the object moved towards Earth. Suddenly, it slowed down, confirming that it was indeed some form of vessel and not just a hunk of metal. Winston tried once more to get any images, but it yielded nothing. The object came to a relative stop in geosynchronous orbit above Sydney, Australia.

Winston tried to think of what might be in Sydney that extraterrestrials might want. He came up with nothing, for as far as he knew the only notable feature of the area was the relatively dense population of the east coast while the Outback was now a desolate wasteland. His attention was drawn back as a small mass split off from the still unknown object. Athena instantly responded by beginning to plot its trajectory, which led straight to the city below.

Typing on the keyboard, he pulled up the list of Overwatch agents in the area, only to curse as none showed up on the continent. Sighing, he spoke, "Athena, alert the local authorities that they have inbound."

"Unable to comply. Dispatch is locked down with reports of Junkers in the industrial sector of the city," Athena responded. Winston growled and slammed a fist onto the desk in frustration and the situation. He stopped his fit as Athena continued, "Object is dropping below the medium Earth orbit line, visual acquired on object."

Winston moved the windows displaying information on the larger object off to the side to allow room for the image. "Show me," he requested. A still picture appeared on the screen, showing the back end of what looked to be a dropship that could take a tank round and keep going. The blue glow of the jets was noted, as was the weapon mounted on the nose of the exoatmospheric craft, but that wasn't what caused Winston to go still in shock. Instead, he stared directly at the slightly grainy but still very readable _UNSC_ painted on the side of the craft, a feeling of betrayal permeating his heart as the craft entered the atmosphere.

* * *

 **Real difficult to tell I've never written romantic character scenes, eh? No? What a surprise!**

 **If you spot any mistakes feel free to review or PM them and I'll fix them. Used the text editor to proof-read since I always seem to miss a couple miscellaneous mistakes in Gdocs (an 's' there, an 'ing' there), not a big fan of the interface.**


	3. Contact

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **Guest: The WidowxTracer tag is on the story mate. It's a plot point I enjoy, and thus it is there.**

 **Sorry for the delay on this one, got bogged down with a peculiar ailment called life. How vexing.**

* * *

The first tremor went unnoticed, passing through the structure of the ship without incident. Automatic processes logged the anomaly down as a slipspace current, unworthy of notice for the AI currently running the ship. In different sections of the vessel lay two warriors, each exhausted from the battle they had just returned from, each ignorant of the event. The unexpected guest aboard was similarly unaware, still unconscious from the torture of being trapped in the slipstream.

It was the second tremor that got the attention of Cortana, a small alert popping up on one of the bridge consoles. There were no blaring alarms, no flashing lights or any other such silly nonsense. It was merely a single window, meant to alert the crew to a possible issue. Almost instantly the AI on board the _Dawn_ was running diagnostics, simple programs to find any problems while her attention stayed affixed to whatever else she had been running.

Shortly thereafter a third tremor raced through the vessel, slightly stronger than before but still undetectable by most humans. The Chief was not most humans, and as such was alert within moments of the slight vibration. A quick glance at his clock told him that it had been thirteen hours and twenty-six minutes since he had closed his eyes, a long rest for a Spartan. Feeling significantly recovered from battle, the warrior stood from his position on the floor of the barracks. Looking to the occupied bed, he noticed that the girl had had a fitful rest from the blanket tangled around her.

Satisfied that she would not present a threat, he began to make his way towards the barracks exit. Before he could leave, however, another vibration shook the ship, rattling the empty bed frames around him. "Cortana?" he asked into the silent room, knowing that the AI was always around. If she wasn't already reporting to him then she hadn't noticed he was awake, which meant that she was devoting the significant processing power of the _Dawn_ 's computer elsewhere.

It took a few seconds for her to answer, an unusually long time for her. "The slipstream distortions are beginning to buffet the ship. I can keep us stable for a bit, but if this continues we'll have to either manually drop out of slipspace or be torn apart."

A quick nod was all the acknowledgement that the Spartan gave Cortana, knowing that she was busy with more important matters. With a speed born of practiced precision, Chief bound the human pilot to the bed with combat straps designed precisely for preventing shifting during turbulence. Although usually used for nonessential personnel in combat maneuvers, it would still work to prevent the girl from being flung if the ship began to experience truly significant forces.

With that completed, he turned and made his way back to the bridge, hurrying his pace as the judders began to pick up in both frequency and force. As he reached the helm, the Chief noted that the Arbiter was already present and working on a console. Cortana's form sprung into existence on the central pedestal as the Chief joined the Sangheili at the controls. While the Arbiter knew what he was doing theoretically, actually implementing corrections to help pilot the ship proved to be significantly more difficult due to the human technology.

Chief set to helping Cortana directly pilot the _Dawn_ while the Arbiter input Covenant slipspace calculations that weren't in Cortana's databanks. As their effort continued, the ship shook around them, each jerk from the slipstream becoming more pronounced. Aside from the violent shaking that they fought against, all else was calm on the bridge. Silence reigned as both warriors dutifully maintained their posts as best they could while Cortana secluded herself amongst the slipspace calculations she was feeding to Chief's console.

This was broken as Cortana spoke, "Slipspace drive is reaching its capacity for corrections." She said nothing else, knowing that the two at the helm needed to maintain concentration.

Several more seconds passed before an alarm split the air, drawing the attention of the Arbiter. A few awkward pokes at the screen and the alarm ceased as a diagram of the ship appeared on his screen. He quickly reported, "Structural integrity warning, significant displacement of unsecured assets."

"Deal with it later. We need to drop out now, Chief," Cortana responded. A grunt was the Spartan's only response, his hands flying across the pilot's console faster than anyone other than a Spartan could follow.

It was only a short time and much shaking later that an automated message played across the _Dawn_ 's intercom system, "All crew, prepare for slipspace exit." The two warriors on the bridge both looked through the bridge viewport at this, their hands paused in whatever operations they had been doing. Even though both beings had seen it many times before, the sight of the slipstream fading away to be replaced by a canvas of stars was still mesmerizing.

The _Forward Unto Dawn_ emerged from the turbulent slipstream in a surprisingly smooth exit. Within seconds various sensor readings were appearing all about the bridge, monitors lighting up as information poured in. Before either warrior could return to their consoles to begin processing that information, however, Cortana suddenly drew their attention by bringing up a video feed on the main bridge viewscreen.

"Temporal distortion in the main barracks," the AI explained. The feed showed the still unknown girl in the bed, although her form was no longer stable. While the blanket and straps still held her to the bed and covered her, her face was visibly shifting between solid and incorporeal. As the slipspace portal finished closing behind the UNSC frigate, the girl disappeared completely, letting the blankets and harness float down to the mattress unhindered by the body they had secured.

The Arbiter's deep voice was the first to ask, "What of her fate, construct?"

"Considering she only disappeared once the portal itself closed, it's possible that she survived. As I mentioned before, the UNSC knows next to nothing on this subject," the AI responded.

Chief interrupted before the AI could begin speculating, "Where are we?" His mind was already diving into the tactics and logistics required for their situation, distracting him from yet another human casualty he could not prevent.

Knowing exactly what her Spartan was doing but acknowledging that it was useless to worry about the girl at this point, Cortana closed the video window and brought up the expanding sensor analysis of the system. With that done, she went back to lecture mode, "It appears that we've emerged in the human home system for this, eh, 'universe', let's call it. From what details I've gathered so far, it appears we are currently positioned between the Earth and the Moon, at an angle of thirty-seven degrees off the rotational axis of the planet."

An image taken from one of the cameras on the outer hull came up on the main viewscreen. In it, several large scars on the gray surface of the Moon were highlighted. The AI continued, "From the organized nature of these markings, it appears that humanity has successfully attempted lunar colonization, although I'm detecting no activity from the surface to confirm the success of the project." The screen changed once more, this time to the instantly recognizable surface of Earth. "A contrast to that hypothesis, however, is that there's a noticeable lack of artificial satellites in orbit, although the _Dawn_ is picking up significant concentrations of debris in a decaying orbit," she finished.

"Communications?" the Chief asked.

Cortana put her hand to her ear for a moment, as if listening closely to something before responding, "There are whispers, nothing intelligible, however. If we were to move closer it might be possible to enter geosynchronous orbit without being detected by the few operational stations. This would also allow me to access some form of information network if it exists."

"Do it." Cortana nodded as the Spartan turned back around to continue analysing the data that was appearing on his console. The Arbiter contented himself with watching the planet below grow larger through the bridge windows, having only seen the human homeworld with the plethora of UNSC defenses in orbit.

"Dropping into orbit above thirty-three, fifty-one, fifty-four South by one-fifty-one, twelve, thirty-four East, inbound vector at six i, eight j, two k, burning at five kilometers a second to enter a standard tundra orbit on UNSC Bravo-6 ground track. Inclination of six three point four degrees to establish an apogee dwell between the Australian mainland and circling above Japan. Orbital perturbation analysis indicates that this is an exact match to UNSC calculations," Cortana reported.

While the extent of the Arbiter's english skills did not cover orbital mechanics, his time as a Covenant fleetmaster allowed him to understand the basics of what the AI reported, if not the specific details. Chief, being trained in piloting large vessels, knew and understood exactly what each term meant. Cortana quickly threw an image of their planned orbit up onto the viewscreen for the Sangheili's sake, their current location and path along with surrounding objects all displayed.

Glancing at the figure-8 path drawn on the surface of the planet to represent their ground track, the Arbiter asked, "Why this specific route?"

Cortana glanced at the Chief for approval to reveal that information. Seeing him tilt his head in silent acquiescence, she explained, "It's one of several standard pre-flight plans for all UNSC vessels entering the Sol system. The Australian Outback contains several massive UNSC ground-side shipyards as well as large-scale mining operations. Sydney, the largest city on the continent, is also the main debriefing post of all inbound UNSC assets."

"Observation of large population and industrial concentrations in UNSC history?" the Sangheili leader asked, his tactical mind already working several steps ahead.

The AI smirked and responded, "Got it in one."

Several minutes passed in silence as the _Forward Unto Dawn_ flew through the void, the planet slowly shifting outside the windows as Cortana rolled the _Dawn_ to have the ship oriented down towards the continent below.

"Approximately five minutes to establish orbit. Beginning to monitor communications networks, historical records indicate that IEEE 802.15.7 specifications should be picking up in use at this time. Utilizing the LLC 802.2 OSI model, I should be able to access some basic data systems to begin a tactical analysis of the situation." Chief vaguely recognized the organization structures that Cortana was spouting off as archaic systems communications protocols, but his education in such systems was limited to modern UNSC data retrieval methods.

In keeping with his record of forethought, the Sangheili asked, "What are our operational assets and tactical necessities construct?"

A list popped up beside the AI's figure, displaying each combat and operational asset that the _Dawn_ had on board. She began, "When we left to the Ark, the ship was stocked to the brim with everything that could fit. Pelicans, Scorpions, Warthogs, Mongooses, ammunition, weapons, all the combat pieces that would be necessary for short-term, heavy fighting. From the stocks that were loaded, we still possess three pelicans, two Scorpions, two gauss hogs, a gun hog, and five mongooses. As for weapons, there are plenty, both Covenant and human in origin, along with ammunition for Covenant models from the Shadow of Intent. The only munitions the _Dawn_ does not have an excess stock of is StS orbital armaments, though there are plenty of point-defense slugs for ground engagements. There are MAC rounds and various UNSC self-propelled missiles, but a great many were used in the battle above the Ark and I would prefer to not revert to orbital bombardment just yet"

The asset directory then switched from military equipment to the subsistence items and the amount listed in kilograms. It was obviously instantly that this was going to be their main prohibitor on any operations, seeing as the list was extraordinarily short. Cortana confirmed this as she continued, "While we could probably defeat any army on the planet below by giving the Caveman here his pick of the clubs, any long term engagements are out of the question as it is. We are not stocked for a prolonged mission and are already dangerously low on medical supplies, rations, and other necessities. I'd prefer to stay up here until we figure out what the situation is on the ground and find a solution to return home, but we do not have that luxury."

"We drop in the city," the Chief stated, picking up his MA5C from where he had set it while working at the helm and sheathing in on his back.

Cortana glared at him and responded, "Yes that's the plan, though it will be hard to execute if you go charging around like a barbarian with a new stick to wave around."

"No hostile contacts?" the Chief asked, obviously concentrated on the mission at hand but with a lighter tone to show that he accepted the AI's tease. He meant it as a mere comment to began the operation briefing but at the huff from the blue avatar his head shifted to look directly at her form.

"If that ever happens, you'll be the first to know. For now, there's a situation developing on the western edge of the city, apparently located near an outer industrial zone," she informed them. Once more the projection before them changed, this time into an overhead view of the city below with a large sector on the western edge highlighted in dark red against the standard UNSC blue light.

"Why should we involve ourselves in their disputes?" asked the Arbiter.

Cortana sighed and explained, "Standard UNSC contact protocol dictates that any vessel that discovers a possibly sentient species should report directly to HIGHCOM and stay on station to observe until the proper UEG personnel can be mustered or until further orders are received. Any UNSC vessel stranded without communications is to make contact only if necessary for survival and drop a beacon to await rescue. If contact is made, all UNSC personnel are to make every effort possible to enforce the position of the UEG so long as it does not compromise security measures integral to UNSC information."

"A political move to secure support from a foreign power."

"However distasteful that may sound, yes. Engaging in combat as first contact may not be the best way to meet and greet, but standing by while civilians are slaughtered would be even worse. Save the people and we could be able to set up a beneficial exchange for supplies and other materials. If we discover a solution to return home in their territory, entering with their permssion would make asset retrieval much easier," she told them.

"Tell me, construct, how do we know we would assist the correct state?" the Sangheili asked. Chief merely listened to the conversation while scanning through the information that Cortana was diverting to his HUD. Communication transcripts silently answered the Arbiter's question for the Spartan. According to the transmissions that were being received, the attackers were some unorganized group called 'Junkers' that originated from somewhere to the west in the Australian Outback. The reports indicated a widespread attack across much of the area, along with a general confusion as to how they had broken through the military forces stationed on the edge of what they called 'The Wasteland'. He could deduce that the Wasteland was the Outback, although why they were calling it that was unknown to them until Cortana could obtain information pertaining to it.

The AI finished explaining the same thing to the Arbiter, who afterwards only asked, "Would my presence strengthen our position?"

"They'd find out eventually, might as well introduce you along with all the rest." With a nod in response, the Arbiter headed off the bridge and towards the dropship bays on the side of the _Dawn_. The Chief took a second to pull Cortana's chip from the pedestal before following behind the sangheili warrior.

After dropping by the Arbiter's selected quarters for his T-51 Carbine, the two warriors made their way to the port dropship bay. Shortly thereafter they exited the UNSC ship, the massive bay doors closing behind them as Cortana locked down the ship for security reasons. Before them lay the entire planet, the vast expanse of land and water taking up the entire cockpit window as the Chief directed their dropship straight towards the continent below.

As they descended, Cortana briefed them on the drop zone, "Current reports indicate a push along the Western Motorway by hostile forces. The Australian Defence Force is trying to send supplies and troops to assist but their line against the rest of these attackers needs to be held. Currently the ADF is busy holding off several thousand more attackers on their frontlines, a distraction that let a small force slip through. Local police, ill equipped for full-scale combat, have set up chokepoints to attempt to concentrate the attackers into a manageable area. We will be dropping straight onto the front lines to assist a besieged officer barricade that is trying to hold the Motorway."

"Hostile objectives?" Chief asked.

"Unknown, although from their movement it's something further in towards the heart of the city. After breaking through the ADF's lines in the western wasteland, they've stuck closely to the main roads, moving rapidly from the border of the New South Wales state towards the city. All infrastructure along the route has been devastated, but the attackers haven't spread out towards any civilian establishment not directly on their route. Several hundred of these Junkers have made it into the area and while the local authorities are holding their ground, they are taking unsustainable casualties."

The Spartan nodded as she finished, keeping his sight affixed to the western edge of the continent as they cleared the mesosphere without incident. Even from their position miles up in the stratosphere it was possible to see the trail of destruction left in the wake of the attacking junkers. Clouds of fumes from several towns were slowly dissipating as the plumes rose into the cloud layer. While the city below was still visible with no smoke to clog the air, it was obvious that the western edge had suffered significant damage and was starting to burn.

Once more those inside the dropship were quiet, watching as they approached the city in almost literal free-fall. Ever so often the view would turn as Cortana calculated precision adjustments to their course. As they came to within two kilometers over the city, shown by the dashboard altimeter, Chief began to gently pull the Pelican out of it's dive, levelling off to blast over the cityscape at 300 meters a second while holding steady at an altitude of half a kilometer.

It was obvious as they approached the ongoing battle that help was desperately needed. Buildings all throughout the sector were in flames, along with a great many already in ruins upon the ground. Short range radio communications were picked up by the pelican's communication suite, many calling for medical staff or warning those around them. Chief reached over and flicked off the radio, silencing the calls of distress to allow the two warriors to assess the situation as it was.

Within seconds the Pelican arrived above the main scene of fighting, causing many heads to turn and look. Without more than a cursory glance Chief analyzed the situation, categorized threats, and determined a course of action. The highway below was crowded with both officers and what must be the 'Junkers'. Authorities were taking cover behind a shoddy barricade of cars, cement dividers, and sandbags as bullets whistled across from enemy lines.

Calling the enemy organized, however, would be a bit of a stretch. What consisted of the enemy lines in this case was a horde of what looked to be around seventy attackers garbed in what Chief could only assume was some sort of metal. Each plate was haphazardly held together with the others by strips of cloth and buckled straps. From the small number of bodies already littering the road, it was probably safe to assume that these plates could stop small arms fire.

Done with his observation, he rose from the pilot's seat to follow the Arbiter to the back of the dropship. Chief didn't have to say anything for Cortana to take command of the Pelican, their synchrony evident as the craft didn't waver from the transfer.

The Arbiter glanced back when the Spartan entered the troop bay before directing his gaze onto the landscape below as the back of the craft opened. Still concealed from the sight of those below, the two warriors drew their respective weapons and prepared to drop directly into the fray. The metal deck that support them vibrated as the chaingun on the chin of the Pelican fired a barrage to give them covering fire.

A roar split the air as the Arbiter led the way into battle, leaping out of the hatch of the Pelican. He dropped straight down towards the mismatched combatants, his energy sword flashing as it activated. A hail of gunshots answered the warcry, quickly followed by screaming as several attackers found themselves several limbs poorer. Chief followed after the Sangheili, the drop of over thirty meters not a concern for him. As he fell, the Pelican's engines roared above as Cortana directed the dropship to land behind the police line.

One of the scrap-clad assailants was unlucky enough to be under the Spartan as he landed. The result of a half a tonne of Spartan landing on the relatively unarmored junker was not pretty in the slightest. A loud crack could be heard above the battle around them as the Chief's boot collided with the back of the man's skull. His neck bent and snapped at the sudden added weight before dragging the rest of his body with him to the ground.

As his head reached the ground, it was suddenly compressed between the foot above and the ground below. With a sound like crunching eggshells, his skull and everything inside burst outwards as it was flattened. The Spartan's other foot landed on metal plate covering the back of the junker, denting it and crushing the chest cavity beneath. Several civilian enforcers looked on in horror as this occurred, not used to such brutality. Before they could fully process what had just happened, the Chief shot off towards the closest target, already engaged in a combat mindset.

The Junkers, distracted as they were by the Arbiter's attack, did not notice the Spartan approaching their backs. It was the last mistake they would ever make as within seconds the Chief was upon them. Of the four targets, two were armed with nothing more than crude melee weapons that were of no threat to a Sangheili with an energy sword. The other two were carrying firearms, one with an assault rifle of some sort and the second wielding what looked to be a very crude pistol. Chief quickly assigned priorities to each target, going for the one with the rifle first. A mere thought and Chief's own rifle was aimed at the charging man's head.

The first round from the MA5C entered the man's skull just above where his spine ended, traveling through the intervening flesh to exit just under his eye socket. As his flimsy metal mask reverberated with the sound of the bullet embedding itself in the soft metal before punching through, the next two rounds were already let loose. Though he never got the chance to feel it, the junker's body still twitched as the rounds entered his back and traveled through his heart before exiting his chest in twin spurts of gore.

His pistol-wielding comrade was just turning his head to look why his buddy had fallen when the Spartan got a lock on his head. The man's eyes were widening in shock as he saw his deceased friend when the first bullet exited the UNSC-made chamber. His vision was creeping across the space behind him as he turned, trying to find who had fired the shots. As the blurry shape of a person came into his peripheral, the first round made contact, entering through his temple and killing him instantly.

With both possible threats already down, the Spartan turned his attention to the oblivious melee junkers. Both were still charging towards the Arbiter, who in turn was charging away from them and at the junkers that were taking shots at the Sangheili from behind cover. Several smoking pieces of corpses were left behind the warrior's path, most with missing limbs or torsos with twin puncture wounds from the dual blades of an energy sword. Knowing that the Sangheili could deal with the armed combatants, Chief decided to conserve ammunition and simply sprinted towards his two remaining targets.

Within moments he was hurtling through the battle at almost fifty kilometers an hour. As the debris-filled road flashed by, Chief idly noted the Arbiter taking cover behind one of the cement dividers and a burnt out car as the sangheili's shields sparked and began to recharge from the intense firefight. Turning his attention back to his own targets, Chief aimed for the one holding a metal bat.

A mass of Spartan moving far faster than it had any right to slammed into the man, sending his torso flying forwards at the sudden acceleration. His limbs splayed out as his brain automatically tried to balance his body. As his spine was broken on impact from the forces exerted on it, he could do nothing as his forward momentum was brought to a sudden halt when Chief grabbed his arm. His chances of survival already at none, the dislocation of his shoulder along with the pulverizing of his forearm as the Spartan tightened his grip only served to cause his screams to be even louder as the pain began registering in his mind.

Ignoring the wails, Chief grabbed the improvised club the man had been wielding and ripped it out of his feeble hands. At this point the other melee user had noted the massive green giant next to him. Willfully oblivious to the fact that he was by and far out matched, the junker gave a shout and brought his piece of rebar to bear as he went on the attack.

Metal met much, much stronger resistance as the crude weapon vibrated painfully in the attacker's hands, producing a dull ringing noise as it bounced harmlessly off the Spartan's energy shields. Panic filled the junker's eyes as he looked up into the unamused golden visor and realized that he had just made his last mistake. Faster than his opponent could possibly follow, Chief brought the bat back and swung it straight at the head of his assailant with one hand.

A loud _*CLUNK*_ echoed off the bat as it made contact with the junker's head, snapping it to the side and breaking his neck while simultaneously severely denting the Chief's literal club. At the odd sound, the junkers who had been firing at the Arbiter along with the sangheili himself turned to look at the scene, taking in the seven-foot tall armored tank holding an assault rifle in one hand and a bent baseball bat in the other. A strip of cloth hung from the Chief's left shoulder from when he had made bodily contact with the original owner of the bat.

Ignoring the attention, Chief resumed the battle by hurling the metal club end over end through the air. Before it had made contact with its unlucky victim, the Spartan was already moving once more, his rifle raised and his visor lighting up targets. With that, the battle continued, the Arbiter letting out another warcry as he continued his cooking-by-way-of-sword spree. Behind their now secure barricades, protected from spray fire by several riot shields, the Sydney police watched on as these new warriors tore through the attacking junkers with ease.

Unheard by anyone but the Spartan himself, Cortana teased, "When I said the barbarian could use his club, I didn't mean he go out and find a literal club." Allowing a slight smile through at the words, Chief continued his job, quickly and efficiently working with the Arbiter to clear the immediate area of hostiles.

Within minutes the original force of junkers had been annihilated to the single digits. The last few surviving attackers, seeing that hope was lost, turned to escape the blade of Thel's energy sword and the Spartan's bullets. The Arbiter sheathed his energy sword and drew his T-51 to keep his prey from escaping. With a palpable sense of disdain for the cowardice of running from a fight, he gunned down the retreating junkers, his aim true as the radioactive rounds punched through chests and heads, leaving gaping holes in their wake.

Their mission to defend the main front accomplished, the two warriors made their way back to the police line. As they approached, they noticed the officers concentrated around the Pelican that had landed behind their lines after the Chief and Arbiter had deployed. Their attention was drawn to the two soldiers as their heavy footsteps alerted the assembled crowd to their return. Frightened gazes drifted between the spartan and sangheili, the traumatized gazes lingering on the Arbiter before continuing to the remains of the junkers that had been attacking them. Chief had seen plenty of those expressions from the desperate civilians on besieged planets during the Covenant war. With that familiar mentality for talking to survivors, he approached the officers as the Arbiter dropped behind the Spartan to let him do the talking.


	4. A Class in Badass(ery)

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **Four months. Despicable showing on my part. For however little it means, apologies for the delay. Got a bit stuck on this one. A little note, however, if there's a gap in my updating such as this (which, much as I don't like it, might not be rare. College and all) I will update my profile with what stories I'm working on. If I abandon something, it will be posted to that story and on my profile. Not planning on abandoning this, to be clear.**

 **Also, Tracer now has a canon girlfriend by the name of Emily. So, yeah, that happened. Also, devs have confirmed Tracer as a lesbian. I only state that specifically because some people have called them 'gal pals', which I can neither figure out nor understand so I'm just going to shut down any of that trite nonsense right now.**

* * *

Tracer awoke not to the sun shining in her eyes, as she expected, but to the sound of her communicator buzzing incessantly on her bedside table. She blinked at the clock beside her, noting that it was 03:28 in the morning, far too early for her tastes. With a scowl she swiped the device off the bedside table and glanced at the screen, ready to simply ignore whoever had the gall to call this early.

She sighed as the caller ID showed Winston's face smiling up at her. Knowing that the ape would never call at this time unless it was important, Lena slid the lock screen out of the way and took the call.

"Winston, it's great to hear from ya, luv, but it's a bit early for a call," Lena told him.

"Sorry, Tracer, but it's important. There's a situation developing," Winston replied. Tracer groaned and rolled over to lay on her back and stare up at the ceiling as Winston continued, "I've been getting reports throughout the night of two Australian Junkers moving east through the continental US. Their last known action was the theft of a vehicle on the east coast. Recorded statements have indicated that their next target is King's Row."

"So soon after Talon's attack last night? That can't be a coincidence," Tracer said, thinking about why the delinquents would target a residential sector. Talon wanted to escalate human-omnic tensions by murdering the omnic population in the contentious neighborhood, but the actual location held little tactical or monetary value for rogue scrap-artists.

Winston didn't respond for a second, although Tracer could hear him talking to someone in the background, likely Athena. He soon came back and answered, "I agree. Athena thinks it's likely that they're after the EMP that Talon left behind after you dispatched their team."

"I disabled it to the point that even the Spider herself couldn't fix it. Why would they want an oversized paperweight?" she asked.

"Such a device requires some rather complex infrastructure. From Talon's previous attempts at such actions, the bomb they were transporting was likely an EPFCG, which uses explosives to compress magnetic flux for a high-powered EMP without the need for a large capacitor bank or a nuclear device. The area is still locked down and police are processing the crime scene, but they won't be done before the company arrives in several hours," Winston explained, even knowing that most of his terminology would go over Lena's head.

Tracer rolled her eyes at Winston's verbose lesson before asking, "So, why couldn't you let me get at least a bit more sleep? Now I'm going to stay up thinking about keeping the barmy tossers from getting their hands on the fancy electricity thing. Not that I don't like talking to ya, big guy, but you know how I am after a mission." After any mission where the enemy refused to surrender and had to be dispatched through more violent mean brought up memories that she'd rather avoid.

Winston had expressed his immense disapproval of her continued presence in Overwatch operations for that exact reason, but ultimately he couldn't release her as there was no replacement. The Petras act had annihilated Overwatch as an effective organization, and even with the recall Lena was the only agent left in England. Before the fall, Lena had been in training, learning how to control her chronal accelerator and how to stay alive in combat. After the fall, she was one of the few who had stayed in hiding with Winston, if only because both her chronal condition and mental state made any extended stay in public life a lost cause.

The ape's voice brought her out of her deprecating thoughts and back to the issue at hand as Winston explained, "Sorry, Tracer, but there's a second incident in progress in Australia. It seems that the escapade of the two headed your way has encouraged a bit of an invasion on the west side of Sydney. I didn't have any agents in the area, but new forces arrived to hold the line."

"So? That's hardly surprising that the Australians would respond to an attack on their capital by a horde of nutters," Tracer interrupted, short on patience due to the time and her mission the night before. She had been expecting to wake up in a good mood, ready for a day of rest and daydreaming. Getting another mission so quickly was both irritating and unhealthy without proper rest.

"They were UN Special Forces soldiers, Lena. Dropped into orbit from nowhere before proceeding to intervene in a situation where normal constabulary forces were insufficient," Winston explained.

Tracer was silent for a few moments as her tired mind tried to process what Winston was getting at before responding, "All Overwatch activity was banned by the Petras Act. The only other armed forces the UN has are Peacekeepers, which hardly qualify as special."

"The Act bans Overwatch activity specifically. Their entrance was similar to our's, albeit without an active global crisis. Overwatch isn't coming back, Tracer. These soldiers aren't a reinstatement of the Watch or reinforcements for it, they're replacements," Winston continued, unperturbed by Tracer's interjection.

"The red tops will be all over this one," Tracer said quietly after a moment of thinking about the implications of being replaced. Neither she nor Winston would have anywhere to go if they lost the private monetary backing that kept them barely afloat. Official international government protection would be preferable to many of those that paid for their escort services.

Winston intruded on her thoughts as he said, "I just thought you should know, before the news hounds get ahold of it. Give it some time to sink in. I'm sorry, Tracer."

"What are they called?"

"There's been no announcement yet, so I'd imagine they'll finish their mission in Australia and then head up to the UN headquarters in New York to be introduced to the public. The acronym of the group is the 'UNSC', to slightly answer your question," Winston answered with a huff of annoyance at some issue with something on his end.

Tracer didn't hear anything that Winston said after that as memories rose unbidden from her mind. Scenes of fire and death on planets far from Earth, ships of colossal size destroyed in moments, entire planets burned before the might of an unstoppable enemy. Standing against annihilation, the unyielding green warrior, steadfast against the tide.

Shaking her head to clear the horrifying and confusing images, Tracer rolled off the bed and quickly made her way to the living room of her apartment. Her chronal accelerator sat in its charging cradle next to the tv, casting a blue glow around the dark room. After retrieving the remote from its resting place under the couch cushions, Tracer quickly flipped the channel over to the Beeb World News to see if there were any reports yet.

"Tracer!" Winston's shout finally caught her attention as the reporter on-screen mentioned the attack on Sydney but confirmed that no footage had been released from the active warzone currently.

Bringing her mind back on track with the conversation, Tracer replied, "Sorry, what were you saying Winston?"

"Nothing important except trying to get through to you. What was that, Tracer?" he asked, his tone conveying his worry about her sudden silence.

"Just getting my thoughts in order, luv! So, what's the plan?" Tracer asked, putting on the hyperactive persona that most knew her as.

"Lena..." Winston trailed off and gave a sigh as he recognized the avoidance tactic that Tracer was using. "The two headed your way will arrive in several hours time. Intercept and disable them, but try to keep them alive for questioning. They aren't Talon, and while they have caused damages, they haven't stuck around anywhere long enough to cause anything more than injuries."

"Will do, big guy. Do you want them or let the bluebands have custody?"

"Let the police deal with them. As for the other situation, I'll keep monitoring it and update you if we need to take action. If they head to the UN HQ, it would be an excellent opportunity for Talon to interfere. Kill the new heroes and show their capability to strike at anyone," Winston answered.

"I'll be waiting. If that's all Winston, I'm going to get some more sleep."

"Take care, Tracer," Winston said softly.

"Goodbye, big guy," Lena responded before closing the call with those parting words. Any last hopes of getting rest tonight had been lost with the mention of the source of her nightmares. So, alone in her space, surrounded by silence and the glow of her chronal accelerator and tv, Tracer sat and thought.

If it was the same being she had seen when lost in pain and confusion, then she would need to find it. She would confront it, and she would discover why it had waited almost a decade before coming to deal with the loose end that she presented. With that in mind, she drew her attention back to the news feed and waited for any confirmation of the warrior's presence.

* * *

"Halt! Lay down your weapons and approach with your hands in the air!" The call came from the line of officers before them, arrayed in a defensive formation. Though they couldn't see his face, Chief still hid his expression of confusion. Even during the Covenant war, few soldiers or commissioned officers would dare to order a Spartan around, and those that did were telling him where his objective was. Even though these humans had never seen a Spartan, it was still odd for a civilian to try and give orders to an obvious military unit.

Instead of doing as the civilian asked, the Spartan continued on his course to the barricade. The officer raised his pistol, a cute little thing that looked like it fired the standard nine millimeter rounds that were common police caliber even in the 26th century. Several others officers hesitantly reinforced their leader, although their hands were shaking, causing their aim to waver. The man who had made the demand of the Chief had steady aim, although his eyes were flicking to the Sangheili warrior behind the Spartan. Chief assumed that the man must have been military at one point, considering his courage and steadfast resolve in the face of true battle.

"I said Drop. Your. Weapons!" he stated once more, enunciating the last three words. Once more he was ignored as the two warriors stepped over the cement barricades with ease, moving with deceptive ease for their size. At this point the group of officers had backed up to the Pelican, with many taking cover behind the metal struts of the dropship to try and give themselves a chance if it came to a firefight.

As the two massive beings in front of them continued to ignore their commanders orders, the police line drew back even further, many looking close to turning and running. They were local cops, under oath to protect their city and its citizens from crime and assist in mitigating crises. Full scale military action against what were obviously a walking tank and some alien was not why they were there.

Seeing his support withdrawing slowly, the commanding officer made a mistake he would not soon forget. With a sharp crack, a gunshot rang out as the belligerent officer fired his weapon at the advancing Spartan. With a burst of flame, the small metal bullet exited the chamber at almost 400 meters a second, covering the distance to the green giant in just over ten milliseconds. A crackle of energy emanated from the impact site as the small round ricocheted off the glowing barrier.

Thirteen milliseconds passed before the Spartan reacted, a flash of time far too short for any but a Spartan to acknowledge. With a decision and strategy already formulated, the armored giant shot forward, accelerating at a rate that would kill an unaugmented human. In the 295 milliseconds it took for the officer to register the charge, the Chief had already covered three meters. Frozen from the mass bearing down upon him, the commander could do nothing as his pistol was grabbed from his grip by the Spartan's massive hand. Not that he would have had a chance if he could move, for the weapon was out of his hands faster than he could see, pulled with a force far greater than he could exert.

So it was that the rest of the world caught up to the blur of events that had just transpired. The Arbiter simply looked on as his human ally dealt with the situation, content in that he did not have to deal with the confused humans himself. The police force that was half-heartedly covering their leader, however, found themselves in a much different situation. Their commander was disarmed and at the mercy of a being who could apparently take direct gunfire without any notable effects. Many lowered their weapons to the ground, unwilling to attempt a shot with their commander standing in the line of fire.

The Chief noted the other officers standing down as he continued to stare down the man in front of him, the small police-issue pistol held in his large fist. Keeping his gaze directed to the commander, he began to tighten his grip on the firearm. At first the weapon held up, admirably enduring the force of Chief's grip. Within seconds, however, the Spartan's grip overcame the resistance of the plastics and metal that made up the barrel of the gun. Several cracks visibly opened on the weapon, rendering it useless for further combat.

Eyes glanced feverishly between the deformed firearm and golden reflection as the officer waited for a retaliatory strike. Instead of the expected hostile action, however, the Spartan ordered, "Evacuate this sector and fortify the edge of the combat zone. We'll deal with the enemy." With that promise, Chief dropped the destroyed peashooter and turned to make his way to the Pelican. The Master Chief grabbed some more ammo for his Magnum and MA5C. Thel shook his head when the Spartan glanced in his direction, silently asking if he needed to rearm. With that done, Chief made his way out of the dropship and past the disarmed officer. The Arbiter spared the man a single glance of annoyance for impeding their mission before continuing to follow the Spartan.

As the two warriors made their way back towards the junker-infested streets, the dropship that they had arrived upon became active once more. Officers scattered as the transport vessel rose with a blast of thrusters to take off towards a more secluded location until it was needed once more. The commanding officer diverted his gaze from the broken pistol on the ground to stare after the mysterious figures.

He was distracted once more as their craft flew overhead with a dull roar. A scowl formed on his face as he glanced at the letters ' **UNSC** ' painted on the side of the ship. To him, it seemed as though the United Nations had finally replaced Overwatch with whatever this new organization was. It was the only logical conclusion that would explain the odd technology and the, 'thing', that had appeared to help them. From the way they had inserted themselves into the situation and begun throwing about orders, it was obvious they had the same arrogance as Overwatch had as well.

Instead of focusing on the activity behind him, Chief was concentrating on a map that Cortana had projected on his HUD. Several sections were highlighted to show enemy clusters and other relevant tactical data. Seeing that the main vanguard of junkers had been eliminated, their objective at this point would be to flank any opposition, break the front, and prevent enemies from becoming entrenched.

With that in mind, Chief turned off the main road and into the industrial environment that spread out around them. The Arbiter followed behind, knowing that being seen with another human would be better than going off on his own. While they would cover less ground, it was better to stay grouped together in unfamiliar territory. Without any words being exchanged between the two veterans, the each took to a side of the street they were on, scanning any opening for signs of hostiles. Even with motion sensors, years of combat experience demanded no less from the two warriors.

So it was that they advanced northwards, away from the main road and into the ruined manufacturing plants and warehouses that surrounded the area. Intelligence gathered by Cortana from field reports indicated that there was a group of junkers roaming unchecked about two blocks ahead. While both warriors picked up their pace, their advance was still cautious as they scanned the area for threats.

After clearing out the rest of the street, both operatives took up position in a destroyed warehouse that was missing its roof and several walls. From their elevated view of the area, both warriors could identify multiple contacts roaming the area, either scavenging materials or destroying infrastructure. Cortana was already highlighting targets, feeding the information back to both combatants.

Spread out before them was a small side-street, an alleyway that lead to a dead end with several parked trailers at the end. On their side of the street were the ruins they were ensconced in, the former building stretching most of the block for industrial storage requirements. Across the way stood what looked to be grain storage. Connected to the units was what looked to be a large hangar for shipping and receiving. Several massive concrete silos provided an undulating wall of stone, only broken at the base of the rightmost unit where junkers had planted explosives and blasted their way inside.

A score of those responsible stood outside, each one armed with poorly maintained firearms as they kept guard. Chief formed a plan for infiltrating the structure, plotting fields of fire and routes for himself and the Arbiter. Once he received the Sangheili's silent nod of approval, Chief slowly rose from his position and moved to flank the junkers and provide enfilade fire.

The Arbiter, in turn, disappeared from sight as he activated his cloaking device before moving to the left side of the collective. Unseen and silent as any Spec Ops operative, Thel quickly closed the distance between himself and the disorganized line of enemies. Before he reached the unaware souls, Chief initiated contact with a tap of the trigger.

Two junkers went down, both now missing several important components of their head, most notably the majority of their brains. Not that there was much there in the first place. A second later the Arbiter ignited his blade with its distinctive hiss. His target whipped around at the sound, the Sangheili's charge distracting him from searching for the Spartan. The junker's last sight was of a glowing plasma blade hanging in midair before it cleaved through his head.

A quick glance at his tracker showed seven more targets maneuvering out front along with a significant force inside the building at the edge of the tracker range. Thel's concentration was drawn back to the battlefield as a few rounds impacted harmlessly again his energy shields, outlining his form from the dissipating energy. His distraction allowed the Spartan to take down three more targets, the bullets rendering all three headless.

Thel once more closed in to engage in close quarters combat with the remaining four enemies. In quick order each was dispatched, the searing gashes across their bodies sealing their fate. Another glance at his tracker showed three forms moving towards the sounds of battle from inside the damaged structure. As they exited the structure, the Arbiter noted that their weapons seemed to be slightly better than their comrades, albeit still nothing compared to UNSC models.

Before the Sangheili leader could move to engage, the Spartan eliminated all three targets. The massive rounds of the human assault rifle rendered each enemy headless, spraying the ground with blood and other internal matter as the shots exited. Thel turned to watch his human ally drop down from where he had been perched. Cement cracked and the ground shook as the Spartan landed with straight knees, completely unfazed from the drop.

The Chief quickly made his way across the cluttered street to take up position on the right side of the hole into the silo. Considering the lack of pollutants or material on the ground, these specific units must have beens empty when they were breached. This meant that enemies could be on catwalks or other maintenance structures when they entered, creating a much more diverse combat zone than a simple breach and clear.

A small green light appeared on the Arbiter's HUD, a silent communication signal that he knew the Spartan favored. Thel drew his carbine in preparation for the unavoidable ranged combat. He sent a blink back with a thought, showing he was ready to proceed. The light blinked once, then twice, then turned a solid red to signal permission to instigate contact.

Chief was the first to enter, twisting around the ragged edges of the impromptu entrance. He raised his rifle to the walkways above, already anticipating enfilade fire from those positions. A hail of rounds answered that question as his energy shield flared to life. Several quick taps of the trigger of his MA5C put that threat to rest, allowing the Spartan to focus on the ground forces. He saw the Arbiter take up position on his left, the Sangheili's carbine firing precise shots into the enemy lines.

Having taken out the three junkers above, the Spartan joined in breaking the enemy resistance on the ground. Of the eighteen that had begun the fight, two were already dead from T-51 rounds to the face. As before, the two warriors split to each side to flank their enemies. The closed nature of the silo had the unfortunate effect of amplifying each gunshot to a much greater volume, making it much more difficult to locate where enemies were. Echoes reverberated throughout the structure as the disorganized miscreants attempted to halt the two special operatives.

Unluckily for them, both the Spartan and Arbiter were on an entirely different level. Within seconds Chief had taken four more kills. Two targets went down without heads as the large 7.62 rounds tore through their skulls. Another two went down when they had the brilliant idea of lining up for the Spartan to put one bullet through both of their chests.

Seeing that open combat would not work, the junkers began firing wildly from behind several pieces of machinery that were bolted to the floor of the storage unit. Against normal, unshielded opponents,such a tactic may have worked, but against energy shields the unconcentrated fire proved to be a negligible hinderance.

Leaping over the cover of the closest group of targets, Chief managed to catch them completely by surprise. The first got a boot to the temple as the Spartan flew through the air, breaking the junkers neck and ending his existence. A bullet ended the second man's life, cutting off his panicked attempt to run from the armored giant. A quick bash with the stock of his rifle finished off the group of three, leaving six enemies surviving.

Thel took the opportunity to engage as two junkers attempted to charge the Sangheili with explosives lit. Two shots brought them to the ground, where their screams were silenced by the detonations of their packages.

Of those that had opposed the two warriors, four survived the slaughter to make it out alive. The survivors fled into a ground-level maintenance access port before either warrior could get a clear shot to take them down. Chief glanced at his motion tracker to take note of which direction they had fled before scanning the room for any enemies clinging onto life. Seeing no possible threats from any targets that may have survived their entry, the Spartan made his way over to where the junkers had escaped. Thel followed him after a careful glance around the area.

The Master Chief entered the area first, MA5 loaded and raised to fire on any junkers that may have stayed behind. It appeared such an opportunity had been missed by the junkers in their panic, however, as no resistance greeted the two as they advanced down the narrow tunnel. In short order they were entering the main building of the facility.

A massive hangar created the main reception and processing area for whatever product had been stored in the adjacent silos. The roof was raised far above them, although several of the metal panels that made up its surface were missing. Various items were spread out across the main floor to create a chaotic yet dangerous series of blind spots for enemies to engage from. Chief immediately moved to cover behind a rotting box to get out of sight from any ambushers while the Arbiter positioned himself in the doorway and allowed his focus to roam over the building for any motion.

After a few seconds of waiting and no flak forthcoming, the Chief moved from his cover and advanced further into the space with his weapon drifting between various likely engagement points. Thel followed a second later, far enough back to provide cover fire for the Spartan but close enough to not become separated in a melee.

They were about halfway across the hangar floor when the first spray of bullets kicked up sparks around the Chief as he glanced around the corner of a metal shipping container. Instead of pulling his head back, the Spartan let his shields take a few rounds as he gauged the situation.

Between him and the enemy was about twenty meters of open space, lined by various items along with debris from the collapsed roof overhead. Fourteen targets were currently visible, although it was possible that more were behind barriers and reloading or expecting return fire. Instead of following that prediction, however, the Spartan pulled back behind cover as his energy shield began to consistently glow as it absorbed enemy fire.

Chief turned to look at the Arbiter and motioned for the Sangheili to be ready to charge the enemy lines in a head on attack. While suicidal against the Covenant, the psychological effect of having a seven-foot tall soldier charging a position under withering fire ended up being an effective tactic to break the fighting spirit of the Insurrection fighters. It was likely that the untrained junkers opposing them would break ranks and flee entirely if scared enough.

Thel nodded his agreement with the tactic and took up position behind the Spartan in the typical breach-and-clearing stack. They held that formation for several seconds, waiting for a pause in the hail of rounds. Their opportunity came as several of the enemy ceased fire as they needed to reload or realized that their shots were worthless. His shields recharged and weapon ready, the reduction in firepower was all the Master Chief needed as he burst into motion and darted out from behind his cover. A second later, the outline of a cloaked Sangheili followed, splitting off in the opposite direction so as to get behind enemy lines undetected.

The junkers were obviously unprepared for this moved as their aim did not shift as the Spartan passed through their lines of fire. As he was meandering across the open expanse, Chief sent several quick but accurate bursts at exposed targets. Three junkers went down as their lives were ended by the Spartan. While the Spartan was busy drawing enemy fire, Thel charged the right wing of the barricade.

Unseen and unheard above the din of gunfire, the Sangheili leader approached the unsuspecting junkers. Their fate was sealed as the Arbiter leapt over the hastily-erected barrier, igniting his energy sword as he did so. A swipe to his right cleaved one of his opponents in half and rendered the other disarmed. The junker didn't have time to mourn the loss of his arms as the Arbiter's sword was in the perfect position to stab forwards after his initial sweep.

As the other two enemies present in the immediate area noted the now-visible Sangheili, the energy sword came whipping around to remove both of their heads. With those four down and the junker line compromised, the Arbiter began strafing along the perimeter of the junker defenses. He had already dispatched the rightmost enemy emplacement, so he continued where his last strike had faced him and began the assault.

Chief noted the Arbiter decloak at the edge of the frontline and knew that his part as a distraction was finished. His shields were sitting at about a quarter and he was still about fifteen meters from the start of the junker position. Unluckily, fifteen meters for a Spartan was nothing but distance to accelerate. Within a second he had covered the distance to the barricade, but instead of leaping over as the Arbiter had done, Chief simply lowered his shoulder and went right through it.

Splinters of wood and nails exploded out into the junkers around the area of impact. One unlucky soul was standing directly in the path of the charging warrior as he broke through, resulting in an airborne bag of meat as his innards were pulverized from the sudden and forceful acceleration. The rest of his compatriots fared much better without 450 kilograms of armor and soldier smashing into them.

However, while the resulting debris was relatively harmless compared to a Spartan, the junkers couldn't suppress the instinctive flinch that accompanied the spray. The Master Chief didn't give them any time to regret such an action as he almost instantly gunned down the three closest enemies in a display of speed that would've torn an unaugmented human to pieces.

While the junkers on his right were dealt with by means of MA5 rounds, the two that had survived so far were attempting to react to the situation as best they could. One was still bringing his weapon around from where it had been pointed at the Spartan seconds earlier while the other was reaching for a melee weapon by his feet. Neither achieved their objectives as the Chief planted his elbow in one man's face as he turned, breaking his neck and sending him onto the weapon he had been reaching for. The other received the butt of the Chief's MA5C to the side of his head as the Spartan continued his turn, expertly dispatching anything the moved as befitted his training.

With those six down and an unknown number to go, the Spartan began to acquire new targets. Using the same tactic as his Sangheili partner, Chief had engaged at the endpoint of the junker front, leaving enemies to his right. Down the line, Chief could see the Arbiter chewing through any opponents that stood before him. Not to be outdone, the Spartan started his own spree as he lightly jogged towards the center of the formation.

Any resistance was quickly dispatched with quick taps on the MA5's trigger or a melee strike to vulnerable areas. The futility of their efforts became apparent to the junkers as both warriors were completely unimpeded by the defense presented. As the two warriors closed on each other and the remaining opponents, the junkers finally broke rank and fled in a disorganized mess.

Neither the Arbiter nor Master Chief would easily allow such a threat to escape, a trait which was evident as the Sangheili sheathed his sword and once more took aim with his T-51. The Chief changed from small taps to full automatic to prevent any possible survivor from escaping into the nearby civilian areas.

As the last junker fell, half his head missing from a 7.62 NATO round, the two warriors that had defeated the junkers once more fell into a careful advance through the remaining space of the hangar. It appeared that the last of the forces arrayed against them had fallen in their assault, however, as they made it to the main shipping and receiving port on the opposite side of the building unopposed.

The two had just finished scanning the outside area for any hostile presence when two jets came screaming overhead, showing that official armed forces had arrived to assist in containing the junkers. Shortly afterwards, a helicopter appeared from the same direction, propulsion jets blasting full bore to push the aircraft to its destination. Instead of continuing on, however, the craft suddenly banked as it caught sight of the two warriors.

A wide circle later and the dust and debris around the Sangheili and Spartan was being flung away by powerful waves of wind produced by the archaic means of transport. As the chopper landed, the side door swung open to let out a squad of rifle-wielding soldiers dressed in the BDU's of the Australian Army. As the group made their way to the two armored warriors, both the Master Chief and Arbiter prepared for the inevitable questions to come.

* * *

 **I did not know that you could use ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) faces on FanFiction. Consider me mildly amused. Red tops is British slang for tabloids. Beeb is British for the BBC.**

 **Normal Spartan reaction time: ~20 milliseconds, faster in combat/with AI assistance. Hence, 13 milliseconds is not insane (besides the fact that it is, of course). Human reaction time record: 101 ms, average: ~277 ms, median: 266 ms**

 **Not a lot of Cortana here. Against what are essentially barbarians to modern day, a Spartan hardly needs assistance. If you spot canon mistakes, please point them out. I try to be true but I'm sure I miss some stuff.**


	5. Unknown Forces

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **So, it's been a while. 6 months or so. I apologize for the wait, and I will try to have another chapter out to celebrate the One Year Anniversary of publishing this fic. Seems a lot shorter than that, though.**

* * *

"Gents," the officer greeted as he stopped about five feet from the two heavily armed and armored soldiers. The markings on his uniform matched the UNSC equivalent of Colonel. Both the Chief and Arbiter looked back silently, neither feeling the need to speak up. The Colonel glanced back to his troops before continuing, "While I appreciate your assistance with the defense, only ADF troops are authorized to conduct military operations within the country."

Chief muted his helmet speakers and inquired, "Cortana?"

"Exfil is inbound. Air patrols have taken notice but no interception has been attempted," the AI responded smoothly.

A flick of his eyes to the marker projected on his HUD showed his acknowledgement to Cortana. With an exit plan inbound, the Spartan unmuted his comms and turned his attention to the military officer, "Understood. Extraction inbound."

"That's just nice, but I've been ordered to bring you to UN Headquarters on suspicion of Overwatch activity. There's a heli on the way for you," the ADF commander replied.

Thel huffed at the human, obviously doubtful of their intentions and capability. The Sangheili responded, "We have our own craft. Our presence will be gone swiftly."

Before the Colonel could argue, the UNSC transport appeared from the clouds, the roar of its engines already audible to those on the ground. Instead of landing, the dropship just turned and opened its door to the two warriors, allowing them to board easily. Any protests from the natives were cut off by the hovering craft or ignored by both Chief and the Arbiter.

As the door closed, Chief inquired, "Destination?"

"According to the information I've gathered, New York is the headquarters of the United Nations. We'll be there in a little under an hour," Cortana reported.

* * *

It was around 2100 Eastern Standard Time when the Pelican began descending from the atmosphere. At twenty kilometers up, the UNSC transport had been running along the lower side of the stratosphere, allowing Cortana to open the throttle.

As they approached their destination, Chief could feel the subtle relent of gravity as the small craft began the descent. Punching through the cloud-cover was quite noticeable as well as the moisture tried to jostle the ship, to little avail against Cortana's direction and the dropship's considerable mass.

117 rose from his seat and made his way to the cockpit, aware of the Arbiter looking up at him for a second before the Elite lost interest. Before the Chief could get settled in to manually steer the ship to wherever they needed to go, a transmission sounded from a frequency used by ancient radios.

"This is NY Center to Unknown aircraft, you are entering controlled airspace, identify immediately."

Cortana replied, "Center, this is UNSC Pelican Alpha One Actual on approach, authorization UNSC FFG-201, prioritization code Bravo 7-2-Sierra 117."

A short silence followed as the controller tried to figure out whether any of those were actually on record. Of course nothing was found as the ATC responded, "Alpha One Actual, permission is not granted for approach. Break off and stand by."

"Negative, Center. On vertical approach to UN 03," the AI argued, taking the landing spot from Ground Control's list of vacant ramps.

"Alpha One Actual, we read your ground speed at 3304 knots, three three zero four knots. Confirm vertical approach."

Chief could hear the amusement in Cortana's voice as she spoke, "Vertical approach to UN 03 for Pelican Alpha One Actual." Considering that UNSC Pelican's were capable of orbital re-entry, along with transporting large vehicles such as Scorpions, an unladen Pelican had a top speed that was easily sufficient to reach escape velocity, which was well above their current speed.

The main body of the airport quickly became visible off to the side of the dropship as Chief took over and circled around the landing spot designated on his HUD. Although he had never seen the New York spaceport himself, Chief knew that it would look vastly different from the relatively simple building before him. Instead of long runways and clustered ramps, it would have a massive terminal on the ground for those arriving or taking off while the main docking area would be in orbit, connected through the Orbital elevator.

Ignoring this difference, the Spartan brought the ship to a hover before beginning to gently lower it to the pad. From the looks of it, UN 03 was a landing space designated for helicopters or other vertically-capable vehicles.

No one was visible around the area, which was preferable considering the possible media presence that could have been waiting for them. Perhaps it was a scare, much like the Covenant had been for the UNSC, or maybe just that no one expected the Pelican to arrive so quickly. Considering that the Australians hadn't reacted too negatively to the Arbiter, it could be either one.

As the bird hit the deck with a hiss of pneumatics from the landing supports, the Spartan rose from his position to inspect what he could outside. While it was dark, his augmentations made such lighting a small concern rather than the hinderance it was for common soldiers.

Nothing moved, at least not anything within engagement range. Several ancient aeroplanes moved in the background, either taxiing, taking off, or landing on the busy runways. Chief took a second to watch the organized chaos, at least compared to the regimented UNSC Navy.

Bringing his focus away from the old transportation method, the Spartan made his way into the back of the Pelican, causing the Arbiter to glance at him. The Sangheili was already standing, ready to deploy and meet whoever it was that had requested their presence.

Chief made his way past the Elite, doing a mental equipment check before deploying the Pelican's ramp. As the two stepped off onto the concrete pad, they scanned the area, only to find nothing of note facing them.

Due to the high traffic in the area, there were no buildings or other features, with the closest one being a hangar near ramp UN 01, almost 300 meters away.

After a few seconds, the Arbiter asked, "Your Construct is sure of these coordinates?"

"I don't make such mistakes. Ground Control is calling for an Overwatch Interdiction Force, which might be a problem at some point soon," Cortana replied, slightly insulted that a mistake on her part was considered.

Chief quickly picked up on the threat as he questioned, "Estimated approach and composition?"

"Ground has given them priority clearance, estimated arrival in twenty seconds, approach from southeast, angle of 160 degrees on north orientation, force composition of two armored vehicles, one Main Battle Tank and one large troop transport, about forty total individuals," the AI reported.

Thel moved off to a flanking position, engaging his cloak as he did so. From the borderline hostile reaction, it was highly probable that combat would ensue. With no cover to fortify behind due to the flat ground created for the runways, Chief stood in the open. If hostilities commenced, his speed would allow him to escape harm far more easily that the Arbiter.

Within seconds the Spartan's enhanced hearing could pick out the sound of a turbine engine and pounding treads above the constant roar of jets in the background. Chief could also see the silhouette of the inbound forces against the large aircraft moving across the area.

As the large military vehicles came to a halt, fighters jumped off, guns in hand. Seeing this, Chief subtly tensed, ready to move if any showed an inclination to attack him. None did, although several moved their barrels in his direction, cautious of the unknown soldier.

From his prior thirty years of war, the Spartan easily recognized the group as a private security force. Some had obviously been in a formal military before, as evidenced by how they moved, but most were significantly less disciplined. Mismatched armor as well as custom additions to weapons were the easiest pieces to spot, though there were other clues as well.

Why they had a Main Battle Tank was mildly concerning, as if this was how private firms were equipped, actual militaries would have far better.

The attention of the supersoldier changed to the top of the tank as the hatch opened, revealing what looked like a leader. Various patches welded onto the pauldrons on his shoulders, along with the obvious air of command, allowed Chief to label the individual as a High Value Target.

Instead of firing, however, the man spoke up, "I'm going to make this simple. We're part of Helix Security International, hired by the UN to take care of people like you. Now, your stupid little 'Overwatch' club is dead, so surrender so that you can be sentenced for breaking the Petras Act."

"We're not Overwatch," Cortana replied, utilizing the MJOLNIR armor to communicate for the Spartan. Several expressions of surprise ran across the group at the female voice, though they did not stop their slow advance.

"We already asked the boss, and he has orders to bring you in. Don't know what this whole 'UNSC' crap is, but you sure as hell aren't part of the Security Council. This is your last chance to come quietly."

Cortana muted the outside speakers and quietly told the Chief, "Try not to damage the Pelican too much." The AI then addressed the Helix force once again, "We will not surrender UNSC assets. Leave, or this will not end well."

The commander snorted and replied, "You people were always full of yourselves. You may have your special toys, but a bullet will kill you as surely as anyone else. Fire!"

Before any soldier could react to the order, the Chief was already moving. The greatest threat was the tank due to its capability to heavily damage or destroy the Pelican transport. As such, the Spartan rushed straight towards the large military vehicle, hopping up on its chassis as he covered the short distance easily.

Several members of the hostile force fired at him as he ran, but their unaugmented movements couldn't keep their barrels focused on the fast-moving target. The commander of the Helix force was already attempting to close the hatch, although he had done little more than reach back and grab the flap of metal.

Knowing that he couldn't waste time by forcing his way into the armored vehicle, Chief pulled out a fragmentation grenade and shoved it through the circular opening before slamming it closed as he moved past. The surprised shouts of those inside were cut off as the hatch shut, only for a loud thump to emanate as the weapon detonated.

As he stepped off the back of the disabled vehicle, Chief pulled his MA5 from the magnetic strip that had been holding it. Since most of the Helix personnel had been expecting a hail of gunfire to quickly down their opponent, the sudden location of the Spartan at their backs had them in disarray.

The two soldiers that were not concealed from the Spartan's view by the tank were quickly downed, their armor doing little to protect against the armor-piercing rounds meant to break through Covenant shields and armor. Shouts echoed about as the security force attempted to deal with the loss of their leadership as well as the change in the enemy's location.

Ignoring that for the moment, Chief quickly put three rounds into each of the two soldiers positioned in the cab of the personnel transport. While the glass appeared to be reinforced, it was not enough to stop the rifle rounds like actual bullet-resistant glass would do.

Now that both vehicles were out of the fight, 117 could turn his attention to eliminating the ground element. From his motion tracker, Chief could tell that Thel was dealing with the enemies to the right side of the Pelican, leaving the left side for him.

Using the dots on his HUD to keep track of enemy positioning, the Spartan kneeled down, keeping his profile hidden behind the treads of the disabled vehicle. Several blips were closely clustered together as they advanced, something that the supersoldier disapproved of immensely. Spacing was key to survival, as all he had to do to eliminate those hostiles was throw a grenade or simply fire blindly and he'd probably hit someone.

However, for his plan to work, the large human kept his position, waiting for the group to draw near. While the four brave but ignorant souls approached the far superior foe, the other 23 hired guns arranged themselves in a somewhat organized, if not strategically intelligent, manner. There were several fields of overlapping fire that were obvious, but Chief could also spot where possible friendly fire might occur.

Of course, that immediately became the prime location for the Spartan to head for, as friendly fire was an easy method for mental degradation of the enemy. Drawing his attention back to the closer group, the supersoldier tensed and got ready to go back into the action.

The first member of the party swung his barrel over the Chief's head, obviously expecting the large human to be hiding behind the tank. While he wasn't wrong as to the general location, the mercenary never got to find out the Spartan's exact position as his gun was ripped from his hand and used as a makeshift club.

With the first member now sporting a sizable dent in the side of his helmet as he bounced off the corner of the tank, Chief moved on to the second target. Flipping around his acquired weapon, the Spartan fired it off at point blank, sending a hail of pellets into the side of the hostile.

Due to their lack of spacing, the force from the blast sent the now-deceased member of the party falling into his comrade, throwing off his aim. This gave Chief the opportunity he needed as he emerged from his crouch, batted aside the weapon of the fourth target, and hoisted the man up by his armor as a meat shield.

Chief could feel several rounds impact the mercenary, proving that this Helix Security did not teach proper identification to avoid hostage deaths. When the fire halted for a second as the man's allies realized their mistake, the Spartan took a second to casually eliminate the last member of the group with the shotgun he had stolen.

A quick survey of the battlefield revealed that the Helix force had deployed some form of mobile barrier. Two blocks of what looked to be heavy metal shields protected fourteen hostile targets, though it also made them immobile. If they wished to move positions, they would have to cross the flat and unmarred surface of the UN landing pad.

Now ready and with his six clear, the supersoldier could easily deal with the enemies at his front. Several steps and he was on top of the first group that had taken cover at the front of the armored vehicle. Chief threw away the dead body that had taken multiple hits in his rush, another tool that had served its purpose.

Without an unwilling body in the way, the energy shields around 117 lit up as stray rounds glanced off as the Helix force desperately tried to eliminate him. Unluckily for the first person hiding behind the tank, the small group was a ways off from being anywhere close to able to accomplish such a feat.

Even as the automatic weapon that the man held fired several rounds into the Spartan's shield, the Chief was already starting his next attack. With his arm already pulled back and the barrel of the Helix shotgun pointing away from his targets, the supersoldier simply punched forward with the butt of the weapon.

While a normal strike would have simply bounced off the man's armor, the MJOLNIR-enhanced blow simply continued on, crushing the chestplate and pulverizing ribs. The man's body finally caught on that it was being acted upon by an outside force as it went flying back, causing the others to shift their aim as they were hit by their deceased comrade.

The weapon itself, however, was also not built to withstand such force and came apart in the Spartan's crushing grip. A quick heft to the side sent the useless tool flying towards another group, though Chief didn't look to see if it connected with anyone. Now that he was once more only left with his own weapons, 117 went for the close-quarters solution.

A quick motion with his left hand and the large blade that was stored on his thigh came out, already slashing towards its first victim. A dull thunk sounded as the sharp blade was embedded in the skull of a hostile, killing the woman instantly.

Following the motion, Chief stepped forward and threw his armored fist into the chin of the last person. It was instantly clear that the victim would not be recovering from the blow as his head snapped back and caused shards of bone to poke through the skin of his cheek. Pulling his hand clear of the man's lower cranium, the Spartan caught a glance of several pieces of bone disintegrating against his energy shield.

The sight did not distract him long, however, as several rounds pinged off the armor of the tank. MA5 rounds answered the shots as the supersoldier shouldered his weapon and took aim. From his current position, the group that were in covered behind the transport truck were unable to fire at him, but that left fourteen others with a clear line.

While the Helix forces had held their fire while their allies were alive, they now opened up on the Spartan. Anticipating this, Chief began systematically decapitating any target that appeared while keeping a close eye on his shields, which were slowly draining under the strain of well-aimed rounds from Helix forces.

Nine more bodies were added to the growing number of dead as the Chief went through a full clip of ammunition to suppress and eliminate targets. This left a total of eleven Helix members, with six in cover out of Chief's engagement cone and five that had realized their inevitable fate if they took a glance over their cover.

As for 117, he continued to stay in cover, waiting for his shield to regenerate so that he could engage the rest of the hostiles. By the sounds coming from the other side of the field, or lack thereof, it seemed that the Arbiter would be joining him in a short time.

Before the Sangheili could rejoin the fray, one of the remaining soldiers threw a grenade from behind the mobile cover. Apparently the brave soul was one of the better-trained or more experienced members of the Security force, as the explosive device went off several feet from the Spartan.

Most of the fragments were blocked by his energy shield, but several pinged off the unyielding titanium beneath as the barrier gave out. With his main line of defense breached and a decent number of enemies still on the field, Chief stopped his cautious approach.

The MJOLNIR armor reacted to the Spartan's thoughts almost instantly, sending 117 bolting around the armored vehicle towards the group of six behind the truck. While Helix personnel were trained to deal with criminals and some Overwatch agents, the sudden appearance of an unknown hostile that had slaughtered more than half their force was the last thing that they realized before their death.

On his way into the group Chief had shouldered one target aside, sending the woman into the truck and disabling if not outright killing her. This left five hostilities, of which all were only now beginning to realize the absence of their comrade.

A quick stab with his combat knife to the base of the skull of one man brought the hostile down and set the supersoldier up for the next attack. Without bothering to limit his strength, Chief kicked the target he had already eliminated into another hostile. Even if the unconventional strike didn't kill the target, it would put her out of the fight long enough.

Using the kick to propel himself back, Chief wrapped an arm around another target's neck, grabbed the man's chin, and twisted. A sharp crack and the hostile's head was facing the wrong direction, straight back towards the last standing Helix soldier.

Since the Spartan was already moving towards the target, there was little that the unaugmented Helix member could do as the Spartan struck out. A quick twist and pull dislodged Chief's knife from the skull of its victim and allowed the supersoldier to bring it to bear as he spun around. Even with the Helix armor, the target couldn't hope to save himself from the blade as it pierce his faceplate and sunk into his brain.

A quick glance at his motion tracker showed that the Arbiter had joined the battle, as the last five soldiers were already dead or well on their way from whatever the Sangheili had visited on them. Assuming that all other Helix forces were eliminated, the Spartan turned towards the two fighters that he had beaten but not outright killed.

One glanced at the woman he had shouldered aside showed that she would not be talking, judging by the trail of blood left by her misshapen skull. This led the Spartan to move towards woman that he had kicked into the transport with the corpse of her ally.

Before the UNSC soldier could reach his destination, Cortana spoke up, "Just letting you know that I'm fending off an attempt to access your suit. Thought I would wait until you were done beating up the children."

Chief ignored the insult to his enemies and asked, "Status?"

"Really, you expect someone to be able to beat me? I must be getting slow if you think so little of me. If I could use the power from your shield, I can boost your transmitter, access the Pelican, and counter on multiple fronts," the AI suggested.

The Spartan nodded, knowing that Cortana was already beginning her counterattack. With all targets down, the use of his shields in such a manner was a matter of convenience for speed rather than truly necessary. Cortana had fought off attacks from Forerunner monitors, a human, even one as advanced as a Spartan, would never be able to break her defenses.

Bringing his attention back to the Helix member in front of him, Chief casually slapped aside the rifle that had been trying to aim for him. The force of the blow sent the weapon flying, causing the woman to grunt as her grip was broken on her firearm.

Kneeling down next to the woman but keeping his distance so he could act if needed, Chief looked at her glaring face and asked, "Overwatch?"

"Fuck you, just kill me you freak. It's obvious that you're not Overwatch," she replied vehemently.

As the Arbiter appeared around the vehicle, he heard the last few words and answered, "Indeed, we are not, as the Spartan said."

Upon seeing the Sangheili, the woman declared, "Talon is the only one that would use a freak like you."

Thel growled at the statement, "Answer our questions and you shall live."

"Fuck you." With that, the women went for some weapon on her leg. Before her hand had even touched whatever it was, Chief had pulled his pistol and fired a round into her head. Since the M6D that Chief used was loaded with Semi-Armor Piercing High Explosive rounds, the results were less than pleasant.

Both warriors ignored the headless corpse as it fell back, discarded and worthless for information. With nothing else to do, the two began to head back to the Pelican. 117 knew that Cortana would contact him when she was ready, so he would wait for her signal.

It was only instinct and reactions honed by years of training, augmentations, and decades of war that caused the Spartan to turn towards the UN hangar. Less than a second later his decision was rewarded as a round blasted off the paint on his chest piece, though the molecularly reinforced titanium beneath was unaffected.

From some quick mental calculations, Chief figured that the round would have struck between his shoulder armor and heavily plated chest if he had not seen the muzzle-flash in his peripheral. While the bullet probably would not have punctured the titanium-weave undersuit, it still would've been sloppy to be hit by such a shot.

117 knew from his experience with Linda-058 that the sniper would not take a second shot, as he had made it obvious that the nest was spotted. A few more steps and the Spartan was aboard the dropship, with the Arbiter close behind.

"Cortana?" Chief inquired as he closed the hatch and started towards the pilot's seat.

"On it," the AI replied. The small ship gave a jerk as it accelerated directly from the ground, a maneuver that could only be pulled off by the steady hands of an experienced pilot or AI without scraping against the ground.

Within seconds the transport was passing over the hangar, allowing Chief to look out and see the sniper that had scored a hit on him. The figure was distinctly female and dressed in some kind of purple outfit, though it looked too thin to be armor. Currently she was running across the hangar, though where she thought there was escape was unknown to the Spartan as the closest building was a good way away across several runways.

Cortana provided that answer as she spoke up, "Aircraft on approach, likely stealth as Ground isn't communicating with them. Picking them up on motion tracking and infrared, though our friend down there doesn't seem to register too well on the scopes."

"Understood. Location?" the human asked.

"Unknown, we can follow them or pretend to break off and keep the _Dawn_ 's sights on the bogey," Cortana suggested.

Chief's agreement was to sit in the pilot's seat and take control of the craft. As he did so, 117 noted the Arbiter coming up to the cockpit to look at the events outside. The Sangheili quickly took a seat, however, as the Spartan began to harass the sniper.

Vibrations were evident even through the hull of the Pelican as the chain-gun on the nose fired off several salvos. None were close enough to kill, but clouds of sparks kicked up as the bullets impacted the metal roof. The purpose was not to kill but instead to keep her from reaching the ground to exfil. If her craft was up by the roof, then it would be much easier to establish a beacon or consistent ping response for the _Dawn_ to track.

In response to the burst of gunfire, the unknown hostile halted her run and raised her rifle to begin shooting at the UNSC dropship. Much to the surprise of both warriors on the craft, the fire was automatic instead of the single-fire sniper round that had hit Chief. Even so, the small rounds had no effect on the UNSC craft built to withstand Covenant weapons.

Several more exchanges of fire followed before the woman's escape vehicle finally arrived. With the unknown vehicle now close enough to pose a threat, the Spartan brought the Pelican around and away from the fight.

As predicted, the sniper took the chance to leap into the aircraft that had pulled up next to the hangar. Since it was obviously built for stealth and speed rather than combat, the enemy transport turned and tried to outrun the UNSC ship.

While such a strategy might have worked for any aircraft here short of a fighter jet, the Pelican was not so easily thrown off. The radio calls from NY Center quickly cut out as both ships blasted out over the harbor and rose into the air.

"Second hostile?" Chief asked as they rose, referring to the software attack on his suit.

"On board the enemy aircraft. The attack cut off after I began my assault, left some undesirable backdoors to that system but left it in working order," Cortana explained.

Chief nodded and went silent as he kept the dropship on the tail of his prey for a few more minutes before beginning to drop back. The prolonged contact would allow Cortana to establish the ship's signature for the _Dawn_ 's superior sensors to keep track of.

With their first intelligence gathering mission complete, the Pelican rose into the atmosphere to return to the _Forward Unto Dawn_. Below, the enemy ship veered off towards its true destination, believing that it had lost its determined pursuer by way of stealth or fuel attrition.

* * *

 **This statement is false.**

 _-evevee_


	6. Finding the Fight

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 ***Important Note*I have changed the tagging for this story. Reasons and specifics are explained below if you care.*End Important Note***

 **After several months of consideration and a good amount of looking through the growing Overwatch canon material, I have decided to change the Tracer/Widowmaker pairing to Tracer/Emily, since that is canon. Seeing as it IS canon, I have not tagged it in the character list and am instead simply tagging Widowmaker with no pairing.**

 **I have also removed the Angst tag from this story and replaced it with Adventure. When I started this story a year ago, I wanted to write Tracer/Widowmaker and the angst that pairing would cause. Looking at it now, after a good bit of writing on other stories and with a MUCH clearer idea of where I want this story to go, I realize that I no longer want to write that story.**

 **Doesn't seem like one year since I published this. On the other hand, I should definitely have more than the mere seven chapters that I've gotten out for this fic. Will try to keep going on this one, know where I generally want to go, but getting there is the issue.**

* * *

Considering that this would be her second mission in as many days, Tracer was truly appreciative that Emily was out visiting family in the States. Of course Emily knew about Tracer's Overwatch activities, how could she not when living with the agent, but Lena also knew that every time she went out to a fight, Emily would stay home and fret.

Even with all her assurances and displays of skill, it was a natural human reaction to danger. While at first it had annoyed Lena that Emily perhaps thought her incapable, she had quickly learned that it was just a girlfriend thing that would never go away. At this point, she found it quite cute.

Thinking on that topic, Tracer was brought to the unexpected moment she had shared with her enemy only yesterday. At the time, it had just seemed like an amusing thing to do, something to throw off the Talon agent and confuse her.

Now, it struck her as rather stupid and silly. Emily had stayed loyal to her, through her worry when Lena was in a fight and the night terrors that Tracer still suffered from time to time. Tracer knew that she was high maintenance, and betraying that devotion on Emily's part was a mistake. Such was life, and Tracer would make up for it after making sure that the Talon weapon in King's Row stayed in the possession of the proper authorities.

Any thoughts about her girlfriend were shunted to the side as Winston's voice came through her communicator, "Landing confirmed, the two junkrats were using a transport craft that they stole. They'll be with you soon."

"Understood, thank you Winston," Tracer replied softly as she got ready to enter combat. A quick glance below revealed that the police cordon around the crime scene was still unaware of the incoming threat. Lena considered warning them, but quickly discarded that idea as they were just as likely to shoot at her as at a junker in the middle of London.

The relaxed mood below quickly changed as explosions sounded out, letting Tracer get a rough idea of where the two troublemakers were from the smoke rising above the buildings on a nearby street. A flick of her hands and Tracer's signature Pulse Pistols were deployed and ready to deal out death to the enemy.

Shouts rang out from the officers as they called into their radios in an attempt to figure out what was going on. Since it was early morning, the traffic in the area was just beginning to pick up, leading to several blueshirts to begin suggesting clearing the street.

They need not have bothered to do so, as within seconds the civilians were already surging towards the exits of the street as several explosions shook the ground. Gunshots could be heard further down King's Row, showing that some form of resistance was being put up by authorities that were far out of their league.

Small arms fire did nothing to stop the attackers, although it did let Tracer know how many casualties there were as combatants were eliminated. From what she could tell up on the roof above the street, one of the incoming junkers was armed with a shotgun or some other similar weapon, while the other seemed to be fond of explosives.

Within the next few seconds, Lena had a visual on what she would be fighting. Coming towards the Talon weapon left behind from earlier were two men, easily identifiable by the scrap metal and dirty rags that barely covered their bodies.

Just looking at them, Tracer couldn't determine which would be more of a threat. On one hand, the massive masked idiot wielding an actual gun would be hard to take down due to his size. The other one, however, was armed with explosives, meaning that he could easily ruin Lena's day with a well-placed shot from his weapon.

Even as she readied her pistols, the Overwatch agent glanced down to see the civilian officers catching sight of the two enemies headed towards them. While they were equipped to deal with pedestrians and general crowds, they did not have the heavy weaponry needed for this fight. Within seconds two were down from the spray of the larger junker's gun, unable to find cover in time.

Another was taken out by an explosion from what seemed to be a grenade launcher of some kind. With only two officers left, Lena ran forward and leapt off the building, mentally prepared to enter combat.

Most people who jumped from six stories up were looking for a way out of the fight. Of course, most people weren't Tracer.

As she fell, she noted the last two officers fall, one to a blast from the shotgun and the other to a grenade. Closing in on the ground, it was easy to see that both weapons fired pieces of metal more than actual bullets, an easy giveaway for the low quality of both guns.

Right before she hit the pavement, Lena blurred forward as she activated her chronal accelerator. By angling her Blink slightly up, she countered her downward momentum and came out of the move running towards the two enemies.

Both junkers reacted to her sudden appearance by firing wildly in her general direction. Due to her speed and experience, however, Tracer was in no danger of being hit as she responded with a flurry of bolts from her pistols.

It took a second for the two to realize that the return fire was actually a threat before they moved. Unluckily, the only hit Tracer got was a grazing slash across the scrap of metal on the right hand of the larger enemy. While her speed did work to her advantage in not getting hit, even she couldn't adjust quickly enough to compensate her own aim.

Knowing that getting closer would get her killed by the scrap metal fired from the junker shotgun, Tracer kept her distance and used her speed to her advantage to keep the two invaders back. Since she had intercepted the two before they moved too close, Lena had some room to work with as she adjusted to stay in front of the bomb that the two were apparently after.

The exchange of shots lasted for several minutes, quite a long time as far as close-range battles like this went. By this point, the three combatants were in a stalemate, each unable to dislodge the other.

Every time the junkers tried to move from the car that they had taken cover behind, Tracer put a burst of rounds around them. With the high fire rate and fast reload speed on her pulse pistols, the risk of a hit was too high for the two wildmen, even as insane as they were.

On the other hand, though, Tracer couldn't advance towards the two due to their position. As it was, Lena was kept busy avoiding the grenades that would fly out to drop around her, each fairly accurate considering the horrible condition of the weapon they came from. Charging the two was not an options, as the massive one would be able to blast her with his scrap gun at that range.

With Lena currently running a game of delaying her enemies long enough for the proper authorities to show up and the junkers trying to tire her out, none of the combatants noticed the ship approaching from above. This quickly changed as a hail of bullets fell around the Overwatch agent, alerting her to the presence of the third party.

A quick Recall followed by several steps and Tracer was covered from the hovering craft, allowing her to get a good look at it. It was easily identifiable as a Talon transport, which struck Tracer as quite odd since they had not been concerned with recovering their material before. That they were doing so when the area was under attack was inconvenient, as now Lena was pinned between that ship and the junkers down the street.

Luckily, the two nutjobs were also kept in cover by the weapons fire from the ship, which prevented them from charging Tracer and eliminating her. Several explosives from the one with the grenade launcher came flying at the craft, accompanied by unintelligible nonsense that was likely curses from the sender.

As the transport swerved to the side to avoid the projectiles, Lena managed to get a good glance inside the open door where the shots were coming from. Much to the agent's surprise, Widowmaker was crouched in the opening and firing down at them with little regard for accuracy. Considering that the Talon sniper was usually a precision shooter, it was odd to see such inconsistent and wild fire from her.

Why Widowmaker was using that tactic became clear, however, as another recognizable Talon agent appeared beside the spider. While Sombra was a fairly new figure in the fight between the defunct Overwatch resistance and Talon, she had quickly become known to be an irritating and at times dangerous foe.

While Tracer had never faced her alone before, she knew that Winston had been struggling to contain intrusions into Overwatch systems from the enemy operative. The special abilities of several agents had been compromised in mid-fight before, leading to some close calls or outright defeats in skirmishes.

Instead of entering the fight, however, the Talon software specialist dropped down to look at the EMP that Tracer was defending. Tracer risked a glance out of her cover to see what the agent was doing, but quickly retreated as Widowmaker nearly put a bullet through her skull.

As she kept her cover and waited for an opportunity to eliminate one enemy or the other, Tracer could hear Widowmaker shouting to Sombra over the roar of the Talon transport. Concentrating on filtering out the sporadic gunshots, engines, and explosions as Widowmaker and the junkers exchanged fire between the ground and hovering vehicle, Tracer managed to make out what was being said.

"-a while! What happened to it?" Sombra said, her accent obvious even as she was shouting to her ally above.

Widowmaker popped off a few more shots before replying, "Overwatch intercepted it before it could detonate. The idiots guarding it were useless and I was unable to repair the circuitry myself."

"You sure our mutual employer doesn't have another lying around? Leaving an electromagnetic bomb in the middle of the street is just asking for trouble."

"I was told that losing the weapon was not a concern. Progress?" Widowmaker asked, putting another precise shot into the metal of the car that was proving Tracer cover.

A few seconds passed before Sombra answered, "Some, but not enough. Still curious as to how this is supposed to work if we're close enough to fight them. A blast from a weapon of this size will take out a good half of the city. The military isn't going to sit around with an attack like that."

"Just get it done," the Talon sniper ordered.

With their intent to set off the device now established, Tracer knew which enemy was the greater threat. While the junkers had caused death and damage, it was nothing compared to what would happen if all electronics in the city were to blow out.

Tracer gave herself a couple more seconds to breathe before darting out from cover as Widowmaker fired on the junkers to keep them pinned down. Before the two Talon agents could do anything, Tracer sent a flurry of shots from her Pulse pistols at Sombra.

As the small but numerous shots threw up grit and clipped the weapon that she was working on, Sombra ducked behind it to avoid getting brained. Of course, this action drew Widowmaker's attention, leading to her peppering the ground around Lena with rounds.

A smile and a snarky, "Too slow!" merited a glare from Widowmaker right before Tracer blinked forward to try and catch Sombra by surprise.

Before she had touched the ground again, Lena knew that her enemy was already gone, probably cloaked considering the terrain. Knowing that the Talon operative wouldn't go far, Tracer turned and emptied both of her Pulse pistols into the circuitry that Sombra had been working on.

Unluckily, Tracer couldn't stick around to repeat the action as one of the explosives fired by the pinned junkers missed the Talon transport above and came falling towards her. Another Blink and she was out of the way, allowing her to watch as the grenade impacted next to the bomb, doing visible damage to the casing.

Standing around was out of the question, seeing as Lena was buggered if Sombra got close enough to mess with her Chronal Accelerator. With that in mind, Tracer continued running, making sure to keep an eye out for any rounds fired by Widowmaker.

As she came to a stop behind a car to catch her breath and let her Chronal Accelerator recharge, Tracer's communicator gave a beep to indicate an incoming call. Considering that the only person that could contact her through that method were Overwatch agents, Winston, or Emily, it was a rather limited selection as to who the call was from.

Taking the call, Tracer smiled slightly as Winston spoke, "Tracer? You there?"

"Little bit busy, but what'cha need Big Guy?" Tracer answered before sending a flurry of shots at the EMP weapon when Sombra appeared near it. The Talon agent ducked away again at the shots as she shouted something up at Widowmaker, probably a call for better covering fire.

Lena ignored their irritated shouts at each other and listened as Winston began, "I hear that you've found the problem and rushed in with no support, as usual. Do they have an aircraft, or is that the authorities?"

A huff preceded Tracer's answer, "Talon decided to join in. They want their electric bomb back, apparently. They were talking about using it to fight someone. Have anything on that?"

"It's a weapon that emits an electromagnetic pulse when detonated, not an 'electric bomb', Lena," Winston berated.

"Not the time for that, Winston," Tracer said, crouching down slightly as a burst of rounds whistled through the air above her head, courtesy of Sombra's machine pistol this time.

The ape grumbled for a second on the other end of line before continuing, "I was watching the newcomers arrive in New York to go to the United Nations Headquarters. Apparently the UN doesn't know who they are either, as they sent out a group of Helix Security personnel to arrest them by the Petras Act."

"They couldn't even get away from a couple of guys with pistols and a truck or two?" Tracer questioned suspiciously, knowing that there was no chance that Helix would take down the being that had landed on the planet.

"Err, no, not quite," Winston said hesitantly. "The entire force was eliminated , but I was cut off by an intrusion from Sombra into my systems. Athena fought her off, but I missed what happened. When I got the feed back, the two fighters were gone, along with their ship."

A couple seconds passed as Tracer thought about the correct question to ask, eventually inquiring, "Couldn't see them on your fancy radar and stuff?"

"I picked up something moving east to cross the pond from the States, but they disappeared fairly quickly," Winston replied.

"How'd they get to New York so fast? Weren't they in Kangaroo-land yesterday?" Tracer asked, having come up with the question while Winston was answering the first.

Deep, rumbling laughter came over the connection at the name for Australia before the monkey responded, "They were cruising in high-atmosphere. I don't know what that ship is that they have, but it would be something to take apart and examine."

"Speaking of that ship and those on it, any idea where they're going? I would prefer to not have another couple of people shooting it out in my city," Lena said, a trace of irritation creeping into her voice.

"That's why I called, actually," Winston began. "I picked it up on approach to your position, at least with it's current trajectory."

Before the Overwatch scientist could continue, Tracer interrupted, "You couldn't have told me that first? I need that intel pronto, luv."

"Nothing you or I can do about it, Lena. Even if we did have the option to shoot it down, Talon has already made an enemy of them. Perhaps we can use their help," the scientist suggested.

"I dunno about that, sounds like it could go sideways. When are they coming in?"

In the short time it took for Winston to reply, Tracer noticed that Sombra had returned to her work on the weapon. A quick glance up stayed her initial compulsion to rush the Talon agent due to Widowmaker bringing her weapon around to fire on Lena's position. The rattle of bullets competed with the voice in her ear as Winston answered, "With their current rate, they'll be over you in less than a minute. It will probably be longer, though, as they will have to slow down for the fight."

Tracer's reply to that was cut off as she heard Widowmaker shout, "Incoming in the air! We need the weapon active now, Sombra!"

"I will get it done when it gets done," the other operative replied, obviously irritated at being distracted from her work.

Grateful for the fact that her positioning allowed her to make out the shouts above the sound of fighting, Lena prepared to crash the enemy party. Before she left, she quickly told Winston, "Gotta go, Big Guy. Thanks for the heads-up, and see you soon!"

"Be careful out there, Tracer," Winston replied softly. Any other reply from her fellow Overwatch agent was cut off as Tracer closed the comm line.

A quick glance around the street gave Tracer the chance to locate her enemies and make a general plan of attack. Widowmaker was concentrating on keeping the junkers back from Sombra, who was still messing with the Talon weapon. With the one junker so fond of explosives, the Talon operative had no choice but to keep them at a distance for fear of damage to their transport or the weapon they apparently needed.

While that was good in that it made a good distraction for Tracer and kept the two nutjobs off her back, it would be quite convenient if the two terrorists suddenly found themselves without a ride. Without air support to cover them, there was no way that they could successfully defend against Lena's speed or the two junkers, let alone the green giant that Tracer knew was on its way.

Now that she had an objective for the next few seconds, Tracer reached back and pulled out one of her pulse bombs. A hit from this in the right spot on that Talon ship would send it crashing to the ground, and if she was lucky it would be on top of the bomb.

With her own explosive ready to go and Widowmaker concentrated on the junkers, Tracer bolted from her cover. She knew that the Talon operative above had noticed by the rounds that whizzed past almost immediately. A well-timed Blink made avoiding them easily, however, and brought Lena another few meters closer to her target.

It was at that point that she noticed the lack of Sombra's form behind the bomb. The mistake of losing track of the hacker quickly caught up to Tracer as her Chronal Accelerator suddenly starting beeping, indicating that it was malfunctioning somehow. Without the ability to manipulate her position in time, there was no way that she could avoid shots from Widowmaker with any degree of accuracy.

Of course, with said sniper already focused on her and no cover immediately apparent, that was a large problem. Glancing up as she prepared to try and keep her body bullet-free, Tracer could see a small smirk on Widowmaker's lips as the Talon agent braced her weapon and lined up the shot.

Or at least tried to. Just before she could pull the trigger, Widowmaker's focus suddenly changed as she looked up. Her greater height allowed her to see over the buildings, so Tracer and the rest of the fighters down at street level could not see whatever had caught the sniper's attention.

Their ignorance was quickly rectified as several rounds slammed into the Talon craft, pushing it out of the position it had been holding above the battlefield. Tracer got a glimpse of Widowmaker deploying her grapple to keep from falling to her death on the street below.

A second later, her attention was back to the sky as the mysterious ship went screaming past, buzzing the tops of the roofs and nearly colliding with the Talon craft as it tried to stabilize. At the speed it was going, the ship was almost instantly obscured by the buildings of King's Row, but Tracer knew that it would be back within seconds.

Utilizing the reprieve she had been granted by the timely arrival of the alien ship, Lena made sure that her gear was back online and quickly Recalled when she saw that it was. This action drew the attention of Sombra away from the new attackers and back to the Overwatch agent, leading the hacker to fire several rounds off at her enemy.

Knowing that she had little time to spare, Sombra quickly began to work on the bomb once again, ignoring the shots that Tracer fired at her. Seeing that her attempt to dissuade the Talon operative from continuing was having little effect, Tracer glanced at the Pulse bomb she had prepared for the Talon transport.

Taking a moment to glance up, Tracer noticed the unknown aircraft looping overhead, obviously preparing to dive down onto the field of battle. That was a problem for later, however, as right now the most immediate threat was the Talon weapon.

With a little laugh, Tracer called out, "Time's up, let the fight begin!" As Sombra looked up at the taunt, Lena chucked the explosive and fired off several shots to try and keep the Talon agent close enough to be caught by the blast.

Unluckily, Sombra managed to cloak, making it impossible for Tracer to effectively pin down the thief. Even so, the Overwatch agent was satisfied when her bomb stuck to the Talon weapon and detonated after a couple seconds, leaving a visible hole in the outer casing. Those few seconds, however, were all that were needed for the alien's to complete their aerial maneuver and drop down to the street, giving those present a good look at the heavily armed and armored transport.

* * *

Most UNSC pilots would never dare approach a combat zone at the speed they were going. The possibility of anti-aircraft fire or other such undesirable obstacles would limit any Pelican by way of the pilot's reaction times.

Of course, since there was no Covenant or other active AA installments in the middle of a densely populated city along with the fact that both Chief and Cortana could avoid any sudden issues much faster than a regular human, this limitation was of little concern. Even so, Cortana was keeping a close eye on both their surroundings and the gauges of the Pelican as Chief blasted through the atmosphere to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

After breaking off from the enemy ship, they had quickly returned to the _Forward Unto Dawn_ to resupply for possible combat wherever they ended up. This turned out to be the city of London, a rather unsurprising location considering that the large population would allow their enemies to blend into the various oddities that were always present in such places.

Data acquired by Cortana had allowed them to determine that their enemy was once more engaged in combat, near the historical street of King's Row. Following that intelligence, Chief had decided that downing the enemy transport before they could escape again was the best approach to the battle.

Since any rounds that missed the target would hit somewhere in the city, the Spartan was using the speed of the Pelican to hide their approach as much as possible. At this point, there would be little that the enemy could do to avoid their fate as Cortana announced, "Five seconds to target."

Chief acknowledged the call by bleeding off some speed and bringing up the targeting reticule for the Pelican's chin-mounted machine gun. Behind the Spartan, Thel 'Vadam glanced out at the scenery flashing by before bracing himself against the inevitable acceleration when the human ship slowed down.

By this point, the small form of the hostile aircraft was visible, even though it was impossible to make out details with their speed. As they drew closer, Chief fired a burst of rounds that raked across the stealth ship and caused it to careen out of the way as the Pelican tilted just enough to avoid a collision.

Now that the enemy was alerted to their presence but unable to immediately flee, the human and Sangheili warriors could engage on the ground and try to obtain information about why they were attacked. Since their speed had already taken them well past the battlefield, the Spartan began to loop the Pelican up and around, shedding speed as he let off the thrusters and rotated the ship so that gravity once more aligned with the floor.

That maneuver done, the Arbiter released his grip on the handholds that kept him from falling and walked back into the troop bay to prepare for the fight. Several seconds passed before the Master Chief caught sight of their landing zone, which was determined merely by the fact that there were several combatants around it.

A flick of his hand and the UNSC dropship was set to hover down to the ground, a procedure so simple that even Cortana didn't need to mess with it. The Spartan quickly made his way to stand beside his Sangheili ally. As Chief took out his rifle, he asked, "Status?"

"Ready for battle, even if this is not the fight I was expecting after the Ring," Thel replied, referring to Installation 04B and their mission to light it and destroy the Flood.

"Never is," 117 replied, conveying his meaning even with few words. Anytime the Spartan was involved, it seemed like the enemy was always something different.

With that, the Spartan reached up and pushed the button to open the hatch. Almost immediately several small caliber rounds impacted the Pelican and their shields, alerting them to the position of the enemy. By natural agreement created from their shared battles, the Spartan went barrelling towards the enemy sniper that had shot at him before while the Sangheili held back to engage any other threats.

Even with the impressive reaction to the Spartan's charge, the female had no chance to escape as her rifle was battered aside and the stock of the MA5 clipped her temple, sending her to the ground. Since the two warriors needed information more than corpses, the Spartan held back enough to not completely brain the enemy but instead effectively disable.

While most of his attention had been on that task, the UNSC soldier was not blind to his surroundings. A quick glance at his motion tracker and then out at the street showed that their enemy had some form of cloaking technology.

Unluckily for them, MJOLNIR was equipped with a large variety of imaging technology, as had been common since the 21st century. With only a thought, Chief's HUD displayed thermal imaging of the area, allowing him to easily see the otherwise invisible hostile.

Before he could act on that information, however, a blast of random bits of metal glanced off his shields, doing little damage due to their rather unconventional use. Instead of dealing with the new enemy, however, the Spartan trusted the Arbiter to subdue the threat. Several shots from a Covenant carbine sounded out as the Arbiter suppressed the enemy fire, giving the human the time he needed.

Exactly as before, the Spartan sprinted forward, ignoring the sudden appearance of the hostile as she dropped her cloaked and began to frantically fire at his charging form. Anticipating the same move that he had pulled before, the figure prepared to crouch down and jump out of the way. Her attempt was quickly thwarted as Chief planted his next step and pivoted towards her as she leapt, leading to a look of shock being directed at him just the stock of his MA5 once again made contact with the enemy.

Looking back, Chief noted that the Arbiter had successfully dealt with the two hostiles that had been hiding on the edge of the battlefield. Surprisingly, the two appeared to be more of the 'junkers' that they had already encountered on the other side of the planet. It would be interesting to see why they were here, and even more intriguing to find out why they hadn't continued fighting when the Arbiter had reached them.

At least, that's what Chief assumed had happened. Both scrap-metal-clad individuals were still conscious and not resisting the Sangheili's directions to board the Pelican. Cortana seemed to think the same as she commented, "Odd pair."

Chief's response was cut short as his motion tracker pinged another contact. With reflexes that would've torn any non-Spartan to shreds, 117 brought his weapon up and trained it at the unknown. A second later, he let his aim drift a bit as he recognized the girl that had appeared and then promptly disappeared on the _Dawn_.

Seeing that the Spartan was not about to shoot her, the girl finished stepping out of cover and nervously glanced at the massive soldier. She gave a hesitant wave and said, "Hullo again, luv."

* * *

 **MJOLNIR is hardened against EMP's, as shields do go down when you're hit, the entire suit does not lock up. HUD stays on, can still use jetpack and other abilities, etc.**

 _-evevee_


	7. A Friendly Chat

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **Sorry that it took so long to get this out. Got distracted by school and other projects. Will be a bit before another chapter, as usual, but such is the way that it is. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Tracer had been outside the atmosphere before, though it was only a couple times while she was testing equipment for the Research and Development team of Overwatch. When she had taken those trips, gravity had released its hold on her, giving her the freedom to reach speeds unparalleled in atmospheric flight.

Riding in the alien transport back to their ship in what seemed to be the weirdest kidnapping ever, Tracer noted the continued presence of gravity, though it felt different than it had on Earth. Considering the fact that the transport was property of interdimensional aliens that could travel between stars, it wasn't surprising to the agent that they possessed such technology.

While Tracer was fairly calm, she could most certainly not say the same of the other people in the enclosed space. Across from her sat the two junkers, which was concerning as it was. The lack of restraints did nothing to help that, though the two seemed content to stay in their current positions and refrain from bothering the Overwatch or Talon agents.

That was not to say that they were sitting still, however. The larger one seemed to be greatly interesting in the ship around them as he looked around. His buddy, on the other hand, was positively vibrating in his seat as he looked at the door that had closed behind the two alien warriors. Tracer could pick out mentions of explosives and some sort of shard in his mutterings, but she didn't even try to understand how those went together.

Taking up the bottom of the space were the two motionless bodies of Widowmaker and Sombra. Considering the danger the Talon agents could present, Tracer had concentrated on them rather than the junkers. Even after seeing the Green Warrior incapacitate them so easily, she was still extremely nervous about leaving them unrestrained.

Admittedly, if they were going into space, then there wasn't a lot that the terrorists could do. As clever as Sombra may have been and deadly as Widowmaker was, both lacked the capability of surviving in a vacuum without specialized equipment.

Tracer's attention was diverted away from the two as she felt a significant deceleration from the craft, indicating that they were probably approaching their destination, wherever that was. That assumption was proven correct a few short minutes later as a soft vibration came from the ship, something Tracer could easily recognize as a landing.

Several seconds passed, during which the sound of massive plates of metal moving could be heard. Once that noise had ceased, the two warriors emerged from the front of the transport, each towering about everyone else in the small space.

Both of the individuals ignored the attentive stares from the others in the compartment as they stepped past. The one with green armor took the lead as it reached out and pressed a button to the side of the back hatch. A hiss of pressurized air was audible as the seals broke before the slab of metal descended, allowing everyone to see the well lit plating that had sealed the entrance. Well, those who were conscious could see that Tracer amended as she nearly tripped over the prone forms of the Talon agents.

The Overwatch agent was distracted from the two bodies, however, as she noticed the strange alien motioning for herself and the junkers to follow. Surprisingly, the two Australians not only understood but obeyed the command as they walked by Tracer, with the large one giving her a long look before he followed his companion.

Slightly confused by the look, and a little creeped out by the mask that had given it, Tracer was nonetheless not intimidated by the large junker. Thus, she calmly took up the rear of the procession as the alien led them further into what had to be a complex of some sort. As they walked, the Overwatch agent noted the defensive construction of the vessel, with cover provided all over as well as thick doors that opened as they approached.

For interdimensional beings that could travel in the chaotic void Tracer had been trapped in without side effects, they sure seemed concerned about being attacked. That thought stayed in the forefront of Tracer's mind as the group of four reached what seemed like some sort of planning room. An odd table with what looked like a holographic projector provided the centerpiece of the room, with multiple screens set into the walls for additional viewing surfaces.

The alien seemed to content to simply watch them as they waited, at least that was what Tracer assumed they were doing. Once the green one arrived with Widowmaker and Sombra, they would probably be asking questions. What those questions might be was anyone's guess, albeit Tracer could assume that it would be related to their reality. Dimension. Time. Whichever one of those qualified.

After a short time, the large armored being entered the room as well. Most notable was that he was alone, meaning that the Talon agents were secured elsewhere in the facility, or wherever they were. Tracer had yet to see any indication of the outside world, and while the ground seemed fairly solid, the aliens had already proved themselves capable of gravity manipulation.

All of Tracer's attention, as well as that of everyone else in the room, quickly turned to the holotable at the center of the room as a blue figure appeared on top of it. A second passed before it spoke, "Hello, my name is Cortana. We have some questions that you might be able to answer."

"Have at it. I have some of my own," Tracer replied, not missing a beat.

"Of course, and we will do our best to answer those, but perhaps we can wait on that. Obviously your situation is slightly more unique," Cortana replied. From what Tracer could tell, it seemed like the hologram was similar to Winston's AI, Athena.

This side conversation was promptly ended as the smaller junker looked at the blue hologram with slightly crazed eyes and muttered, "The Blue one is with the Green one, all working with the Strange one. Exactly as the Orb said!"

At his partner's outburst, the larger junker shifted uncomfortably at the attention that was directed at the two from the others. When nothing else was said, Cortana prompted, "The Orb?"

"The ruins told him secrets. I guard the keeper on his journey. He has been looking for the answer, in his words. Hopefully this will finally shut him up," the large one stated in a rumbling growl.

Obviously, that answer was rather unsatisfactory to the AI as she looked back to the first junker and pressed, "You heard of our arrival from an Orb?"

The question caught the attention of the wild man as he calmed down slightly and replied, "Beneath the wastelands of the wop wops, in a place of metal and light. It saw your approach through the land of eleven folds. The Retriever is needed, and I have found him!"

"Nothing but trouble," the larger one grumbled as the aliens reacted to the explanation. Since one was completely different, the other was wearing a helmet, and the last was an Artificial Intelligence that could control its expression perfectly, there was no way for Tracer or anyone else to actually see what that reaction was.

"Huh." The soft exclamation of both surprise and confusion came from the AI on the holotable as it looked at the junker. She turned to her companions and added, "Certainly sounds Forerunner, which means that they must have built some way to go back and forth between here and the Ark. Wherever here is."

Before anyone else could respond to that, Tracer helpfully supplied, "You're at Earth. Well, were, now we're in your...thing." At the last word, the Overwatch agent waved her hand around the room, gesturing to the structure as a whole.

"That's not exactly what I meant, but thank you," Cortana responded, obviously amused at the information. "You seem slightly more coherent than the two 'junkers', as I believe they're called. Know anything about any alien ruins on the planet?"

"Nope, though Winston might. If he doesn't then I really wouldn't know. I do know that these two came all the way from Junkertown in the Australian Outback. Apparently there was some big stuff going on down there recently. No idea why they came to London, or how," Tracer replied, rambling slightly as she went on.

Of course, that was no issue for the AI to sort out as she responded, "Interesting. There's not much information from that far out, what with the irradiated wasteland and lack of any infrastructure. Sounds like the perfect place to look around."

There was no verbal response to this, though Tracer noted that the Green warrior shifted ever so slightly. She highly doubted that the junkers had caught the motion, as unfocused as they were, and she had only seen it due to her natural proclivity towards fast movement. Had to be able to see what was coming when she blinked around, after all.

"After we know all we can, perhaps," the unknown alien said, speaking for the first time. Everyone in the room looked at the being as it continued, "If they surrendered to the Demon because of a Monitor, then there must be a reason for it to desire our presence." The last statement obviously referred to the junkers, though neither of the two seemed to acknowledge that.

"Once we know more is a good qualifier. After Spark, I'm not sure that dealing with a Monitor is advisable, especially with our limited supplies. I would like to avoid that if at all possible," Cortana responded, annoyance tinging her tone, much to Tracer's surprise.

Seeing an opportunity to jump into the conversation, the Overwatch agent spoke, "No idea what you lot are concerned about, but I've been around a few times. More reliable than those two or the Talon agents you brought along."

When the golden visor turned to observe her, Tracer couldn't help but fidget slightly. There was no emotion there, nothing to respond to and no way to tell what the warrior was thinking. Memories of her ordeal after testing the Slipstream jet came to mind, though Tracer quickly pushed them to the side before they could affect her.

Luckily, the AI on the holotable distracted her once again as it replied, "Probably true. You seemed to handle yourself well in a fight, or at least well enough to survive it."

"Of course, hard to be an Overwatch agent if I can't deal with a little roughing around," Tracer stated with a bit of pride.

The little blue avatar seemed to perk up at that as she inquired, "You're associated with Overwatch?"

"Quite well known for it too," the agent answered. "Surprised you couldn't figure that out."

Cortana appeared slightly irked at that as she countered, "I would have, eventually. No matter how much processing power I have, however, I am limited in my search for information by the few connections to your networks that can be accessed through the ionosphere. Even if I could get a solid connection, I still couldn't go through the entire knowledge of a species in such a short time."

"I saw mentions of Overwatch, and I looked into the organization, but I was not aware that there were still active cells. Whoever is hiding your tracks is doing a good job, provided the investigation only skims the surface. Why are you still active?" the Intelligence asked.

Tracer had felt pride for Cortana's praise of Winston, but she quickly directed her attention to Cortana's question. It took her a few seconds to formulate a reply that would make sense to someone that didn't really know anything about the state of the world. It was certainly a challenge that Tracer had never faced before, as everyone usually knew what was going on thanks to the news.

"Sounds like you're short on information, so I'll tell you what I can," Tracer began. When no argument came, she continued, "Overwatch was formed during the Omnic Crisis as a united organization to defend all countries. After that was done with, we continued to help as we could, countering the enemies of peace on every front."

"After a while, though, people forgot what it was like before Overwatch was created. There were protests against the collateral damage from fights, issues with funding from countries who felt they didn't need us anymore, and infighting between members. It all came to an end when the Overwatch Headquarters was destroyed, though not much is known about how or why, even by those of us still around."

Tracer sighed as she thought back to that time and explained, "In its prime, we were the defenders of the world, with nearly limitless resources and an army of heroes. After the Fall and the Petras Act, our numbers slowly fell as people became disheartened. There aren't many of us left now, only a few new recruits along with the most devoted veterans. We do what we can to stop trouble where we see it, but there's only so much we can do."

"Our biggest enemy is Talon, a group devoted to destroying any progressive relations between humans and Omnics. Apparently they want to make Humanity stronger through conflict or something like that, at least according to someone Winston knows. Those two that you defeated earlier are both Talon operatives, some of their best in fact," the Overwatch agent told them.

Cortana easily processed the information and had already begun further investigation into the group as she questioned, "Why is this Petras Act enforced by some private security firm?"

"Had a little run in with Helix, or just see them on the web?" Tracer asked with a bit of amusement.

"They mistook us for Overwatch agents and tried to arrest us. Since we're a foreign entity and cannot obtain legal representation for our case without revealing military secrets, that outcome was unacceptable. Unluckily, that reason was insufficient to prevent a skirmish," Cortana replied.

Tracer nodded and agreed, "They get paid for any Overwatch agents they bring in. As if dealing with the enemy wasn't enough, the very people we're trying to protect have it out for us as well." A distinct hint of bitterness was evident in her tone at that comment.

"Getting involved in a foreign conflict is not our objective, but if they insist on interfering then there is little choice," the AI muttered thoughtfully.

"Bad news for you on that front, luv. They'll be coming after you any chance they get since you took out one of their squads. Bit of a catch, can't get arrested cause there's no one to defend you, can't defend yourself cause it'll lead to your arrest. If you want to get home, Winston may know something. He built my chronal accelerator, can probably figure out a way to help you out," Tracer said, tapping the side of the glowing device on her chest as she did so.

Cortana seemed amused at that as she replied, "I would not be opposed to getting in contact with him, but I very much doubt that he will have the knowledge to help us. Creating a chronal anchor is impressive, but I assume that he has extensive experience with that technology. As far as I have seen, there have been few experiment with the slipstream, and most of those were done by the now-defunct Overwatch."

Tracer's surprise at that was obvious as she exclaimed, "I was part of some of those! Was called the Slipstream Jet, supposed to be the faster thing in the sky. It didn't go quite right, though."

"Obviously," the AI replied, gesturing to the Chronal Accelerator. "Experimenting with Slipspace, as we call it, is quite dangerous. Using a drive in the atmosphere is almost suicidal. You're lucky to have survived."

"I knew the risks. Still, Winston's the best bet you got at getting home. I'm sure he would just love to meet you," Tracer said. A few seconds passed as Cortana seemed to examine the Overwatch agent, causing Tracer to shift slightly under the attention.

Eventually, the AI seemed to reach some conclusion as she decided, "Might as well follow what leads we have. Our primary objective is returning home, however, not helping your world. We simply do not have the resources or support to do so."

"Be glad to have you, world could always more heroes," Tracer replied hopefully.

Cortana laughed slightly and responded, "People need their heroes, gives them something to smile about. That's your job, though."

"Winston thought you were a replacement for Overwatch. Some new United Nations program to help things return to normal. He doesn't know about..." the Overwatch agent trailed off, gesturing wildly with her hand to indicate everything around them.

"He knows just as much about us as we know about your world," Cortana replied. "Maybe a bit less since I've been surfing through the information I can get to."

The conversation between the two was interrupted as the alien being inquired, "What are Omnics?" He seemed to have a slightly difficult time pronouncing the word, though Tracer could still understand it well enough.

Cortana answered before Tracer could as the AI explained, "Basically Artificial Intelligences confined to humanoid platforms. They can move about and interact with humans and other organic beings, but they're still digital in nature. Apparently there's been significant conflict with them before, which is known as the Omnic Crisis. Tensions between humans and Omnics are on the rise, though I haven't looked into it too much since its a local problem."

When the AI looked at Tracer for anything she'd missed, the Overwatch agent added, "Many people think that peace between humans and Omnics is impossible. Talon is exploiting that for their own goals, regardless of who gets hurt on the way."

"So we were attacked by their two agents because they thought the Chief was an Omnic?" Cortana questioned as she considered the events on the ground.

Tracer glanced at the silent green figure and replied, "No idea about that myself, but they probably made the same mistake as we did in assuming that you were some new security force from the UN. Taking down a replacement for Overwatch would be a big victory for Talon."

"Guess our next conversation is with those two in that case. I will guide you to some bunking space that you can use. Thank you for your cooperation," the blue AI stated.

"Could I join you in your questioning?" Tracer asked.

The junkers appeared to have no interest in the conversation as they stood to leave. Cortana only spared them a glance before turning her attention back to Tracer as they waited for privacy.

"Stay out of trouble," Roadhog said as the two junkers exited the room. He sounded annoyed at the excitement of his companion, though it was hard to tell with the creepy mask covering his expression.

Before they left, Cortana turned to address the junkers, "Please don't try to steal anything. I'd hate to kill you after you worked so hard to bring us the information on the Monitor. If you need any supplies, just shout. I will hear you."

Cortana's voice called out from above to direct the two junkers down a branching passage just before the door closed. Tracer couldn't help but feel that it was really strange hearing the AI's voice without seeing her lips move.

The AI glanced over towards the golden visor as if asking permission after the junkers left. She seemed to get some sort of nonverbal answer as she looked back to the Overwatch agent and replied, "I don't have a problem with it. I imagine that they won't be forthcoming with information if you're there or not. Well, either that or lie, and you could help catch the second."

"Not much reason to trust me either," Tracer pointed out casually.

"You surrendered peacefully and have been cooperative. All the information you've given so far has been verified by the sources I have accessed. As far as I can tell, you didn't tell anyone about your little visit to the ship when we were in slipspace, or you weren't believed. Either way, it's appreciated. Trust may be taking it a bit far, but I am willing to take your advice into account relating to events on your world," Cortana responded.

That answer satisfied Tracer's curiosity as she stated, "I can accept that. As for telling anyone about you, I tried at first. Didn't get far though, I keep quiet about it now."

"No one believed you, when they knew so little about the slipstream?" the AI asked in slight confusion.

Tracer shrugged and answered, "I did sound a bit nutters. We don't know anything else about this slipstream place anyways since Overwatch was shut down anyways, so no one else has any experience."

"So you were sent out into the slipstream without any protection or other such precautions?" Cortana questioned critically.

"I was in a jet designed for the trip," the Overwatch agent argued. "Something went wrong with some teleportation matrix and I ended up stranded. At some point, I woke up in your, uh, room thing."

This amused the holographic AI as she responded, "It was our hangar. As for what happened, how many calculations were done to guide you through the slipstream?"

"Haven't got a clue. I was just told to fly the thing, not how it worked. It was supposed to take me from point A to point B almost instantly. Something about changing coordinates in three dimensions, though I think they forgot to account for time, hence the need for my Accelerator," Tracer explained.

"Right, well, I can give you a bit better than that," Cortana offered.

Tracer eagerly accepted, "Would love to hear it, luv."

"If the engineers and whoever else was working on the drive that allowed your craft to teleport only messed up whatever controlled your position in time, there would have been no issue. You might have been stuck somewhere, or rather, somewhen that you weren't meaning to go to, but that could be fixed easily. The problem is that time wasn't the only dimension that got left out in their calculations," the AI began.

"Slipstream space isn't some convenient little place to go to circumvent the laws of physics. A small distance such as one side of a planet to another might seem like instantaneous transport, but doing something like that requires extremely fine control of the mechanics that govern travel through the slipstream. Slipspace isn't just three or four dimensions like realspace, its a set of seven dimensions that overlay the standard three spatial and one temporal. Each must be accounted for when making a jump, making it nearly impossible for anything short of a computer to account for fluctuations in the drive field."

"That you safely entered the slipstream is impressive, as radiation emitted from highly radioactive material when entering slipspace will kill anything that is not properly shielded. The failure to account for field fluctuations is what caused the loss of your craft. Due to some rather unfortunate circumstances, our own slipspace drive was adrift and pulled you into its field when it encountered the unstable slipspace bubble that was created when you entered," Cortana explained.

Tracer interjected as she asked, "So you found me by luck?"

A small shrug was the only physical response from the avatar as the AI replied, "Our own knowledge of slipstream space is still limited. It might have been luck, it might have been some unknown property. Not much data is available to say since undirected slipspace jumps tend to end badly."

"So how are you here? Cool as it is, two versions of humans seems unlikely," the Overwatch agent pointed out.

"Remember that the slipstream is eleven dimensions. Usually, UNSC vessels maneuver through the standard spatial dimensions while using the laws of the slipstream to traverse interstellar space. Since our jump was made without coordinates, our drive followed you to here, wherever that is. It seems that some temporal drift occurred, however, probably due to the lack of any set coordinates from your own jump," Cortana responded.

"Which doesn't seem to concern you that much," Tracer commented.

Cortana waved off the concern as she retorted, "It happens. The point is that we followed you here unintentionally and would like to go home, which requires coordinates to do so. More specifically, some set of coordinates from our own existence."

"What? Like a different universe or something?"

"Call it that if you like. Some different dimension of the slipstream that allowed us to arrive here," the AI replied.

It took a second for Lena to process that before she inquired, "How could we help you at all? You can travel across time and space, and apparently the multiverse as well."

"Well, yes, but it isn't something we can control. Entering random coordinates gets us nowhere sensible, so something else would need to pull us to the location. In this case, that was you. We now need something else to pull us back, hence our questions," Cortana explained.

"So it is. I don't know anything about that, but might as well ask the Talon operatives," Tracer suggested.

Cortana nodded at that as she stated, "That was our next line of inquiry."

"Let's get to it then." The Overwatch agent jumped up, ready to confront the two enemy operatives that had been captured by these people.

With that, the blue avatar disappeared, leaving the holotable clear of any indication of her presence. The dull thuds of armored boots against the metal plating of the floor drew Tracer's attention to the alien and green giant as the two made their way towards the exit.

The two larger figures seemed to have no trouble knowing where they were going as they easily made their way through the corridors. Even though it only took a couple minutes to reach their destination, Tracer still couldn't help but wonder exactly where they were.

From what little she knew, her assumption had been that this had been a ship of some kind, as there was no way that some facility on the dark side of the Moon or something like that. Not unless the intelligence agencies had become so lax that they no longer had their satellites checking that particular blind spot as they had during the days of Overwatch. The sheer size of the vessel must have outclassed anything any organization on Earth had ever built, however, going by the number of passages.

Even then Tracer knew that there must be much more to a ship of this size. Her memories of her ordeal in the slipstream were fuzzy, especially since she had been trying to forget them for so long, yet she still remembered looking around the massive hangar before seeing the golden visor. It would be safe to assume that the metal in that place was the same type as here, yet if that room was on this ship, then the full craft would have to be close to a building in size.

All the power that was needed for the lights, AI core, and other things would be provided by some type of generator, probably nuclear or something such as that that would last for a long period of time. Then there would be weapons, living quarters, utilities, and a whole bunch of other things that needed space.

Figuring out what she was dealing with in regards to these people would have to wait until later, however, as the group of three stepped into the brig. As advanced as these aliens were, Tracer was surprised at how simple their prison block was. Instead of complex mechanisms or energy shielding that could be disabled easily, each of the four cells was sealed off by a large slab of metal, functionally identical to the rest of the ship's materials.

"Opening Cell One," Cortana called out as one of the doors began to slide up into the ceiling. One look at the gap left in the floor was all Tracer needed to be properly impressed by the security of the holding block.

Instead of having some silly system that could be hacked into or physically forced open, each cell was closed off by what looked to be about six inches of metal, though it was impossible to tell if that plate was solid or not. Either way, there was no possibility of Sombra getting into the system, since even the most skilled hacker simply didn't have the hardware access that an AI would have. Thus, the only way to open a cell would be if an AI approved it, or perhaps a command from the bridge if not that.

Tracer had deduced the electronic measures by the fact that Sombra herself had been standing at the door, probably trying to figure out a way out of her predicament. Any hope she had of escaping due to her captors incompetence was quickly dashed as the alien in silver armor wrapped a hand around her neck, its large fingers easily encompassing the infiltrator's slim throat.

The group and its unwilling follower wasted no time in arriving in a different room, this one equipped with a small pedestal with a holographic projector on the top. While not as large as the holotable from before, the avatar that Cortana favored easily fit onto its surface.

Sombra probably would've been fascinated by the opportunity to examine such an AI had she not been desperately attempting to loosen the grip around her neck. Much to Tracer's amusement, the Talon agent was making no progress against the simple physical strength of the massive alien. Apparently having a hand around her throat seemed to make the hacker hesitate to launch a cyber attack on her captor, probably since the being looked like he could easily crush her esophagus with little effort.

"Arbiter, if you would," the AI prompted, getting a glance in return before the alien released its grip.

Sombra stumbled slightly at the sudden release, gasping down air as her hands massaged the soft skin around her neck. While no bruises were visible at the moment, Tracer was fairly sure that they were on the way, especially if she predicted the hacker's intention to attempt a breakout correctly.

Cortana gave little thought to the status of the hostile as she began, "You will tell us who you are, who you work for, why you attacked us, and give us any other information that comes up from those questions. Before you try your suicidal plan, know that the Elite behind you is more than willing to burn your internal organs to ash by way of plasma if you do anything stupid. Oh, also, don't lie, you won't like the results."

"Why are you after me? She was the one shooting at us," Sombra said in what passed as a convincing tone.

"You shot at us first. Stop lying..." the AI countered easily, sounding rather bored with the whole thing.

Sombra scoffed and argued, "What, you believe her over me?! Overwatch is illegal for a reason. We were just doing what Helix could not."

Cortana eyed the girl for a second before rolling her eyes and, with a tone of boredom that Tracer could never equal, ordered, "Chief, break her arms."

Tracer's eyes went wide as the green armored giant took a step forward without hesitation.

* * *

 **You can thank the Doom 2016 OST for this chapter. I have no idea why or** _ **how**_ **that music managed to inspire this chapter, but myeh, whatever. A chapter is a chapter.**

 _-evevee_


	8. A Less Friendly Chat

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **Lot of people seemed to be quite supportive of Sombra's arms being bent in ways they were not made to do. As tempting as it was, and it was extremely tempting, I think that Sombra is more interested in herself than any loyalty to Talon, as shown in her Animated Short.**

 **On that note, however, Sombra is more interested in herself than realizing her situation. She's used to being treated as a valuable asset rather than a disposable source.**

* * *

Sombra's reactions to Cortana's order were both warranted and entirely predictable.

The first reaction was confusion as she processed the command. As a Talon Operative, Sombra would have some knowledge in acquiring information, by force or coercion. It was unlikely that she had actually engaged in any forceful methods of getting prisoners to talk, seeing as how she was an electronics specialist rather than interrogator, but the knowledge was still there.

Once she had realized that she hadn't misheard, the confusion on Sobra's expression turned to disbelief as she glanced at the approaching warrior. She clearly believed the order to be a threat, some form of intimidation to get her to cooperate. Even to Tracer, however, it was clear that the hacker was not exactly confident in her assumption.

Subtle shifts in her body gave away Sombra's insecurity, though those little motions quickly turned into much more obvious gestures of panic as the giant armored being grew closer. This led to the Talon Operative's third and most reasonable reaction as Sombra tensed up and prepared to get away from her captor.

Whatever her plan was, it failed before it had a chance to begin as the alien behind her restricted her movement once more. Knowing that breaking free would be virtually impossible without dying in the process, Sombra withdrew her arms to attempt to free herself. Instead of accomplishing that, she gave the being holding her a chance to seize one of her arms and force it straight before trapping her hand against the table. This left Sombra's arm in the perfect position to be shattered at the joint, a move that wouldn't even require the prodigious strength that these beings had already displayed.

Out of options and nearly of of time as the armored giant drew back very slightly in preparation to execute his assigned purpose, Sombra glanced at the AI for any sign of calling off the hit. She received a blank look in response, making it clear that Cortana believed this to be more of a nuisance than anything worthy of note.

"I just work for them!"

At the panicked shout, the very large, very hard, and very heavy hand that had been closing the distance to Sombra's arm came to a halt. Considering the speed it had been going, Tracer was impressed that the large being could stop the momentum at all. Had the hit connected, Sombra would have less of an arm and more of a formless sack of shards attached to her side.

When there was no further movement, Sombra glanced between the golden visor and the armored fist that was being withdrawn. A look from the AI on the holotable got the point across to the Talon Operative as she continued, "They pay me to get into systems and for a gun in a fight. I don't know their plans or what other operations they have."

"See, not so hard. Please, continue," Cortana stated with feigned pleasantness, causing Sombra to glance between her and the massive being that had threatened her.

The Talon agent wisely decided to obey the order, however, as she continued, "I'm known as Sombra, work for Talon and other interested customers, for the right price. They told me to take out your friend over there, no reason not to with the pay. Well, no reason until Widowmaker failed to hit her target."

"Right. I can assume that this 'Widowmaker' is your friend back in the brig?" Cortana inquired.

"Not friend, more of a work colleague," Sombra replied.

A raised eyebrow on the blue avatar did not change the response, allowing the AI to press, "Doesn't sound like there's much loyalty to this Talon."

"Talon has its own goals. They hire me, but they are not the only ones," the prisoner answered.

Cortana considered this before asking, "Why would you work with them? There are plenty of other jobs that don't involve getting shot at."

Sombra acquiesced to that with a nod but countered, "They do not pay as well, in information, money, or experience. Thus, I do not bother with them unless there are no other options."

"Indeed. Seeing as you deal in information, perhaps you have heard of some interesting stories from Australia," the AI stated with a suggestive tone.

"Perhaps I have," Sombra replied easily. Any amusement that the Talon agent was expecting from her comment failed to appear as the AI simply looked at her. Eventually Sombra got the point and continued, "What are you offering for that information?"

Irritation appeared on Cortana's face as she responded, "It appears that I was unclear earlier."

Before Sombra could figure out what the AI was talking about, she was distracted by the gauntlet suddenly entering her peripheral vision. A brief flash of surprise delayed the Talon agent's reaction due to the unbelievably silent approach that had allowed her captor to get so close. Even when she tried to react, the Talon operative's sitting position prevented any escape she attempted as the massive hand engulfed Sombra's own. That was all the warning that was given before the impossibly strong being _squeezed_.

Sombra had felt pain many times in her life. Several broken limbs from fights under her employers as well as bullet wounds were the worst, though other injuries had also been notable. None of those could compare to the overwhelming sensation of her hand being reduced to a sack of useless flesh. Any resistance that bones provided was overcome with laughable ease as the crushing force gave them nowhere to go but where they were not supposed to. Nerves were severed by the shards that were the result of this, adding to the pain.

As the operative attempted to deal with the sudden development, the armored being pulled back and returned to its previous position, showing no sign that it had been at all bothered by its action. Tracer wisely kept quiet as she watched her enemy trying to scream, an action which was prevented as Sombra was overwhelmed by the agony.

Unperturbed by her comrade's actions, Cortana resumed, "You will answer our questions. For the information that you provide, your life may be spared. That depends on how useful you prove to be."

When Sombra began to sob quietly as she held her wrist to keep her hand still, Tracer addressed the AI and asked, "Was that really necessary?"

"Anyone involved in terrorist activities has forfeited their rights," Cortana replied easily. "She admitted to exactly that, showing no repentance for her actions and specifically pointing out that she was not coerced."

"Well, alright, I guess," Tracer said hesitantly before pointing out, "There's little chance of recovering her hand without a prosthetic."

A snort was Cortana's first response before she replied, "That's the point. She shot at us and didn't cooperate, so she paid the price."

"Quite the price," Tracer commented.

"Not at all," the AI argued. "Want to guess how many people survive shooting the Chief?"

The Overwatch agent considered that for a second before predicting, "Not many?"

Cortana laughed at that and confirmed, "Not many might be an overestimate."

"He had no problem with torture though," Tracer said, looking at the nearly unconscious Talon operative.

Shrugging in a dismissive way, Cortana explained, "Chief knows how to interrogate prisoners. Special Operations and all that. We aren't here to be merciful to those who would oppose our attempts to return home. If they get in our way, they will die."

Tracer accepted that doubtfully but could find little way to argue with it. Considering the conflict that these people had seen, she couldn't claim that something as minor as a single individual would matter much to them. As jaded as it might have been, refusing to acknowledge that truth would be willful ignorance rather than uncomfortable acceptance.

Any further conversation was cut off as the Master Chief pulled something from one of the pouches at his waist and stepped towards Sombra once more. Even though he made no effort to approach stealthily, there was no reaction from the Talon operative at the thud of armored boots. With Sombra on the verge of passing out entirely, the Spartan encountered no resistance as he revived the enemy prisoner.

It was easy to see when Sombra regained awareness as she gasped out a breath. Apparently whatever she had been given had dulled the pain as the Talon operative loosened the death grip she had had on her wrist.

When it seemed that Sombra had sufficiently recovered, Cortana continued her questioning, "What is in the Outback? You know something about it."

"Some sort of ruins. No one has survived entering," Sombra replied quickly as she attempted to conceal any weakness from her voice.

The clipped words gave her away, however, as the AI pressed, "When were these found?"

Sombra tried to shrug, only to visibly regret it as it jostled her hand. Since using body language to answer was not an option, she responded, "They were found when the Australian Liberation Front attacked the Omnium. No team can reach it, it's too radioactive and junkers infest the surrounding area."

"Mild inconvenience at best. Any other such findings at the locations of these Omniums?" Cortana inquired.

"Russia," Sombra ground out after a second of thought. "They found something, tried to get to it. That's what started the war again."

An amused sound came from the AI at that as she stated, "Bet your employers were quite pleased with that." The Talon operative glared at the small blue avatar but did not respond. When Sombra maintained her silence, Cortana continued, "We have our next target, then."

"No other questions?" Sombra asked in confusion.

"Oh, we will have more, but you aren't going anywhere. There's nothing you have that can bring down this ship and the information you have provided is more important than continuing to learn about dealings we do not care for," Cortana explained.

With that, the holotable went blank and the Arbiter grabbed Sombra around the neck once more. Tracer followed the two large aliens out the door as they left, silent as she tried to keep up with the sudden change in objective. She had expected to question both Sombra and Widowmaker, but apparently whatever these ruins were seemed to be more important.

As they walked, Tracer asked, "What about her friend?"

"She's been trying to contact Talon while we talked," Cortana unexpectedly replied from nowhere. "Since her communications seem to be modifications to her body, we couldn't remove them. Well, not easily and keep her alive for questioning, at least."

"Right. So we aren't asking her anything because why?" Tracer inquired.

It was almost possible to hear the shrug that the AI must have done at that as she explained, "We can deal with Talon when we get the chance. Investigating leads as to the object that the junkers talked about is more important."

"You want to go wandering into some unknown ruin surrounded by either hostile junkers or omnics?" the Overwatch agent asked doubtfully.

"We've done it before," Cortana answered before amending, "Not with these junkers or omnics, mind you, but other enemies. We'll be fine."

Tracer didn't seem to doubt that as she replied, "It isn't you I'm worried about."

This seemed to amuse Cortana as she said, "So don't come with us. You've been cooperative and haven't attacked us. Give us a way to communicate with you and we'll drop you off in London. If we have any other questions for you, it would be easy to simply ask."

"I might as well stay with you, since you don't know your way around as well. Instead of charging in without a plan, though, maybe we could get in contact with Winston and see what he knows about the area?" Tracer suggested.

A few seconds passed before Cortana replied, "If he has information that can help us, I don't see an issue with it. We will need coordinates and communication keys, however, unless if we're going in hot."

"Just let me talk to him and we should be just fine," Tracer responded.

With that, silence fell on the group as they arrived at the brig once again. Less than a minute later, the three began the trek back to the hangar, leaving Sombra to deal with her injury alone. Tracer had considered voicing a complaint against withholding medical supplies from the Talon operative, but ultimately concluded that it would be hopeless. Sombra had brought it on herself by working with Talon and resisting Cortana's inquiry, leaving Tracer to accept the treatment however much she might disagree.

Before the group entered the hangar, the Arbiter came to a halt and addressed the Chief, "I will stay on this vessel and monitor the situation. My presence in the structure might disrupt the Oracle and bring more resistance against you."

The only answer the Chief gave was a nod, though that seemed to be enough as the alien being turned away to continue further into the maze of metal corridors. He quickly disappeared from sight, leaving the two remaining fighters to board the transport and leave for the planet.

Due to the opening left by her tentative ally, Tracer was able to take a place in the cockpit of the craft. After glancing at Tracer when she followed him, the Chief paid no more attention to her as he brought the transport around and out of the enclosed space.

At first, the only thing Tracer could see was a massive expanse of black framed by the hangar walls. There were no stars nor any other identifying features as to what the thing might be, leaving the Overwatch agent rather confused as to their location.

This was quickly fixed as the Chief turned the craft, bringing it parallel to the ship that they had apparently been on. Any confusion that Tracer had been feeling was almost immediately replaced with awe. Judging by the section that she could see, the ship had to be massive, at least two hundred meters long. Armored plating covered everything and large turrets were visible even from a distance.

From that view, Tracer knew that the vessel was large, but she kept in mind that there was even more in the direction the Arbiter had gone. Considering that the most ambitious project in space for the people of her planet was a failed colony on the moon, it wasn't difficult for Tracer to deduce that the ship she was seeing was far beyond anything built by Overwatch or any other government. While she had known that the ship she had been on was both large and advanced, seeing the disparity up close gave her a clue as to why Cortana had been so unconcerned with the Talon agents.

Quite simply, if they escaped, they would die in space or die on the ship. No matter how clever they were, stealing and successfully piloting an alien vessel from their current location to somewhere on Earth would be impossible.

It was only the lights on the vessel that allowed Tracer to gauge its length, however, as there was no other way to judge the scale. In front of them were the points of light created by stars and galaxies far away, while to their side was the dark object. From the position of the ship as well as the general circular outline that Tracer could see, the Overwatch agent deduced that the object next to them had to be the moon as it was the only celestial body she knew of that could fit the situation.

This assumption was proven correct as the transport began to curve away from the ship, allowing a slim crescent of silver light to appear on the horizon. Within seconds, various craters and other evidence of impacts could be seen as they left the massive ship far behind. Even though Tracer knew that they had to be travelling at a ridiculous speed, she couldn't feel the acceleration that they had undertaken.

Attributing this to the gravitational manipulation of her new allies, Tracer sat back and watched as Earth came into view. The planet floated serenely against the backdrop of space, giving no evidence as to the conflicts occurring on its surface.

Even at the speed they were going, it still took a good bit for the transport to begin breaking into the upper atmosphere. Specks of matter flashed by as turbulence began to shake the craft, though the Chief showed no sign of concern at this. Once they had reached the upper layers of the stratosphere, their descent leveled out. Most of their velocity had been shed in reentry, however, their speed was still well above what would be considered possible for such a craft by Tracer's standards.

Taking this as her cue to help out, Tracer undid the straps of the seat she had taken during their journey and stepped up beside the Master Chief. It seemed that he had been expecting that as he turned a display towards the Overwatch agent, allowing her to see a grid overlaid on a map of Earth. Finding the Strait of Gibraltar was easy enough as Tracer quickly selected the location.

While she didn't have the exact geographic coordinates of the Overwatch base memorized, it wasn't exactly difficult to just show that they were headed to the Rock of Gibraltar. Showing them the base wouldn't be an issue either, since it was common knowledge that it was built during the Omnic Crisis. Would have been almost impossible to hide that it anyways, seeing as it was in such a prominent and well-known location.

Any other thoughts that Tracer may have had were disrupted as the transport suddenly went into a dive. Due to the gravity plates, the Overwatch agent had no issue beyond being quite surprised at the sudden change in direction. A couple steps and she was back in the seat behind the Chief, eagerly watching as they drew closer to the clouds.

As much as she enjoyed her time as an agent, Tracer knew very well that she truly missed being a pilot. The freedom it granted, as well as the unequaled supremacy that she had when she was flying, was addicting. Nothing else matched it, and no matter how hard she had pushed, she had never been authorized to fly after the Slipstream Jet incident.

Seeing the clouds approaching at such a rapid pace brought back memories for Tracer, and while she wasn't scared, it was rather disorienting to be in the passenger seat while watching such a display. She had done many dives like this herself, but she had always been the one in the pilot's seat, able to control when and how to end the maneuver. Watching from the backseat was certainly not Tracer's prefered position, hence why she had become an agent of Overwatch rather than staying behind the lines.

It was when they broke through the cloud cover that Tracer became seriously concerned. While the Overwatch agent had assumed that they would have several miles of open air to drop down and pull out of the dive, this was not the case. Instead, the waves on the surface of the sea below were visible, a concerning fact considering that the transport was headed straight for them.

Tracer gave a quick glance down to the pilot, only to be reminded that he was wearing a suit of armor and had the vocal communication capabilities of a rock.

Based on what little body language she could see from her position, the Overwatch agent was somewhat reassured. Rather than jerky movements or any other signs of concern, the armored being was simply staring down into the water. On one hand, this showed that he was not panicked, but on the other, Tracer was sure that he should have been.

That concern quickly dissipated as the Chief suddenly began working at his controls, though Tracer couldn't see what exactly he was doing. Whatever it was, the transport began to rotate as the nose approached the horizon rather than the water. Even with that, the craft would be dangerously close to the surface, at least by Tracer's judgement.

Whether or not that was actually an issue was not up for debate as the transport leveled out just above the waves. Glancing out the side, Tracer could see a wake forming behind them in the water, showing both their speed as well as proximity to the surface.

The reason for the extreme maneuvering became clear as Tracer noted their position on the map that was open on the screen in front of her seat. Apparently their orbital approach had been plotted to bring them to land in London, though Tracer wasn't sure if that was by design or simply a returning feature on the craft itself.

Either way, when she had given the coordinates to Gibraltar to her ally, he had altered their course to bring them in. Due to this change, a steeper descent was needed, hence their current position skimming the tops of the waves. Having been in such situations herself, Tracer could tell that the Chief was trying to bring them below civilian radar detection.

While it would be effective for standard air traffic control systems, it would not prevent lidar or over the horizon radar from finding them. Of course, with the speed that they were going, it was unlikely that any aircraft could be scrambled to intercept.

It was that speed that promptly brought them to their destination as land appeared on the horizon, quickly growing larger as the transport closed the distance. Within seconds, the individual forms of various features could be seen, with the most prominent being the Rock of Gibraltar. Tracer could pick out the orbital launch facility that Overwatch had built, though the details became much clearer as the craft made its final approach.

Even though she couldn't feel it, Tracer knew that they were slowing down based on what she could see. The lack of any feeling as they decelerated was rather disorienting, though the Overwatch agent dismissed it as a familiar feeling that seemed to be becoming a rather common occurrence.

Before Tracer could direct the Chief to any particular landing site, he suddenly pulled up from his previous flight path. This let him survey the area from above as the transport blasted past the launch facility. Even though it was far too fast for Tracer to pick out anything helpful, it seemed that her amored friend had no such problem as the craft began to turn about.

Looking up from her seat, Tracer had the odd view of seeing the ground above her while feeling as if she was simply sitting against the ceiling. This was quickly fixed as the transport rotated as the Chief began to circle his selected landing spot.

As the craft bled off speed, it was a simple matter for Tracer to look down and to the side to see the shuttle pad a short ways below. Glancing around the area, there was little evidence of a response from within, though the Overwatch agent knew that Winston used this particular facility as his Headquarters. Seeing as it was Winston that had issued the Recall, it was probable that multiple agents and other personnel were also present.

Contacting them would be her first priority as having an unfamiliar aircraft blasting into their airspace and then landing at the facility sounded like an excellent recipe for conflict. Whether Tracer was more concerned for her fellow Overwatch agents or for the Chief was something she couldn't decide, which was rather interesting to her.

If the large armored man had taken out a full Helix security squad while fending off two Talon agents with little trouble, then it was entirely possible he'd be able to take out several Overwatch operatives. Admittedly, he'd had help from his own ally, but the point still stood in Tracer's mind.

While Tracer considered that, the transport descended onto the small landing pad. The only thing that could be seen in front of them was a solid wall of rock, leaving the back of the craft facing the exit track.

The Master Chief rose from his seat after making several motions on the console in front of him, something Tracer assumed was meant to lock his craft and prevent anything from messing with it while they were on the ground. Knowing that the situation could go south if not handled correctly, Tracer undid the straps that had secured her in the copilot's seat. This allowed her to take the lead into the back half of the transport, though she did not yet open the hatch that led outside.

A second later and the large armored man was beside her, allowing Tracer to see that he had his weapon drawn and ready for action. In attempt to prevent the situation that she had specifically been thinking on, the Overwatch agent spoke up, "Please don't shoot anything."

No verbal response came from that, but it was obvious that Tracer's words had been heard as the weapon was shifted into a relaxed carry. Seeing as it was no longer an alert and ready stance, Tracer accepted that as the best she would get from her seemingly paranoid ally. In the next second, the ramp of the transport began descending as its owner pressed a button on the side of the bay.

Lena stepped forward first, carefully examining the area around them to make sure that it was clear of any troublesome agents. As much as she enjoyed working with Overwatch, even she had to admit that some of them were significantly less restrained than possible. Excellent trait in a fight, but outside of one it would cause issues.

Nothing particularly notable caught Tracer's eye, nor did anything seem to stand out to the Chief as he kept his weapon at parade rest. There were no outstanding signs of decay, though many painted areas had significant wear from years of use and then neglect. Apparently some work had been done to clean the area up after the Recall was sent out.

After the moment had passed, the Overwatch agent continued forward towards the base. Behind her, the soft thuds of armored boots on concrete sounded, reminding Tracer just how unnaturally quiet her ally could be. She considered telling him to keep to the side of the path so that any agents would see her first, but quickly dismissed the idea. Their landing would have already been seen and it wasn't like the armored giant seemed particularly concerned for being hit in the first place.

As they turned the corner, Tracer looked up to the Overwatch symbol on the wall beside them before bringing her attention back to their path. The outside world was quickly obscured as they entered the tunnel into the watchpoint, though sunlight supplemented the artificial lighting.

That idle thought brought Tracer's attention to the lights overhead, not so much due to their presence but rather the fact that they were lit. Before the Recall, Winston had been focused on preserving power as well as staying undiscovered. Apparently that was no longer a concern, at least not for whoever had replaced the broken ones after Talon's attack.

It was yet another sign that Watchpoint Gibraltar was becoming a makeshift headquarters for Overwatch, as it was most certainly not Winston who had cleaned up. As good as he was at science stuff and taking a hit in a fight, Tracer knew very well that the ape was not the cleanest of beings. Of course, even if he had been focused on that, it was beyond any one person's ability to clean an entire facility of this size on their own.

Any other miscellaneous speculation on Tracer's part quickly died as she noticed a closed door ahead. Unlike the small doors to the side that they had passed, this particular gate was in place to allow the shuttle to make its way to the launch pad on the other side of the Watchpoint. Why it had been designed that way was a mystery to Tracer, but that wasn't her concern currently.

Since Tracer had already seen the barrier, she understood the sudden alert air that sprung up around her ally. As silent as he was, Tracer knew that the Chief wasn't a fool by any stretch of the imagination. The fact the someone was attempting to funnel them or completely block their path was obvious, even to her.

Before she could advise any particular action, the armored being brushed past Tracer to stand in front of the metal doors. As this was happening, he pulled a small object off the side of the hip. While the Overwatch agent wasn't sure what it was at first, its purpose quickly became clear when it lit up in a brilliant display of white plasma.

That light was almost instantly extinguished as the Chief plunged the blade into the metal before him, allowing him to easily carve a rough opening through the barrier. Tracer winced at this, knowing that Winston would be less than pleased at the damage.

Much to Tracer's surprise, the Chief stepped back from the new doorway and motioned her to go through. Since she had a much better chance of talking down any situation, Tracer had no issue in obeying.

It was lucky that she did so, as on the other side were Genji and Mccree. While Tracer couldn't see any expression on Genji's mask, she easily observed the doubtful look on Mccree's. Apparently the display by her companion had made an impression, probably due to the fact that he had so easily breached what should have been a secure barrier.

Tracer wasn't sure either way as she was more concerned with keeping attention on herself as the Chief stepped through his makeshift entrance, "Hello again. Here to see Winston."

The other two Overwatch operatives seemed rather unsure of that, but seeing as the Chief wasn't shooting at them and had Tracer vouching for him, they didn't argue. Rather than leaving them to their own, however, the two fell behind Tracer and the Chief as they made their way through the Watchpoint. Tracer's best guess was that they had been holding the area in case of hostilities, though she couldn't know that for sure.

Shortly after setting off through the warren of tunnels that made up the Watchpoint, they arrived at the facility's briefing room. While Tracer had made her way here with the intention of leaving Chief to go find Winston, that plan was ruined as she noticed the scientist, along with several Recalled agents, sitting around the table. No one seemed surprised at their entrance, though stares were directed at the massive armored being following Tracer.

Giving a wave to the gathered fighters, Tracer prepared for the inevitable questions to come.

* * *

 **Could certainly have continued from here, but hit 5,000 words and need to work on other stuff. Glad I got this out on schedule, was a close one.**

 _-evevee_


	9. Into the Depths

Disclaimer: I own no franchise mentioned in this work. Halo belongs to 343, Overwatch belongs to Blizzard.

 **Heyo, been awhile since I've updated this story! Apologies for the wait, there was a delay in updating all my stories. Two year anniversary for this one. How time flies.**

* * *

As she entered the room, Tracer took note of the new furnishings that now occupied the space. Along with a table and chairs that had apparently been scrounged from somewhere were several screens mounted to the walls. It made the room a lot more usable than the empty orange floor it had been before.

Judging by the map displayed behind Winston as well as the relieved glances she had gotten, it wasn't hard for Tracer to deduce that the agents in the room had been discussing what had happened to her. The video feed of the Chief's aircraft displayed on one of the side monitors made it obvious that their landing had, unsurprisingly, been observed, explaining the presence of McCree and Genji at their entry point. Considering that they hadn't yet been shot at, Lena displayed no hesitation in flopping down in the closest seat.

The chair at the head of the table was empty, allowing all present an unobstructed view of the screen at the front of the room. On the left side of the table were Jack Morrison and Angela Ziegler while the right held Winston and Ana Amari.

As the closest to Lena, along with being the most talkative, it surprised no one when Winston was the first to speak, "Thank goodness you're alright, Lena. We were worried." Several of the gathered agents glanced back at Winston's slightly awkward statement but said nothing before turning their attention back to the elephant in the room.

Said elephant simply stood just inside the doorway, leaving just enough room for the two agents following him to slip around and take their own seats. This left one seat open for the Spartan, though it was obvious that his attention was focused on Winston rather than sitting down.

Tracer ignored that and replied, "Thanks, big guy, but no need to worry. Just been busy up north with the crown jewels."

"I, well, yes, glad that's been sorted out. Kind of. What I meant was-"

"I know what you meant," Lena interrupted, slouching down in her seat resignedly. She gestured to the empty chair to her right in an invitation for the Spartan to take a seat. Rather than sitting immediately, however, the green giant tested the chair by pressing down on its back. Having only been designed to hold regular humans, it took little effort from the Spartan to cause groans from stressed metal. Grimacing at the sound, Tracer sighed and muttered, "Point taken."

Once the Chief had moved the inadequate piece of furniture out of the way so he could at least stand by the table, Tracer continued, "Everyone, this is the Chief. Chief, this is Overwatch, or at least part of it. Should be able to help figure out something to help."

Before anyone else could speak up, Soldier 76 interjected, "If we're going to talk, we'll need more information than that. We don't have the resources to just help anyone without knowing anything about them."

"He accidentally came here, was nearly arrested by Helix, somehow pissed off Talon, kidnapped me, Widowmaker, Sombra, and two junkers, and now wants to find an Orb," Tracer summarized succinctly, conveniently leaving out basically everything that would make any form of sense. Obviously that drew everyone's attention, with expressions ranging from doubt to confusion being directed at Lena.

"What?" McCree asked for every other Overwatch agent in the room.

Tracer responded before the Chief could speak up, "A battle-hardened time-travelling dimension-hopping interstellar super-soldier wants to meet our leaders." A short giggle followed the accurate if misleading statement.

"Lena," Winston sighed, used to the hyperactive agent's peculiarities. He then turned his attention to the silent behemoth and stated, "I've seen news reports on the incidents in Sydney and New York. Your actions have been quite, hrm, chaotic. You also seem to be missing your, er, friend."

Much to the surprise of everyone present, a female voice emanated from the large green figure, "We needed to perform ground reconnaissance, Sydney was the logical choice."

"Oh, that's Cortana," Tracer interrupted with a start, drawing attention away from the Chief. "Think of Athena, with more snark."

Everyone looked back at the Chief, obviously expecting some retort. There was none.

After an awkward second, McCree drew the discussion back on track, "'Cause the trash rats?"

"Different reasons," Cortana replied.

When it became clear that no more elaboration would be forthcoming, Winston grumbled slightly and responded, "That isn't the real problem. Ignoring Air Traffic Control, whatever was with you before, and fighting with Helix in New York is."

"They were attempting to interfere with our mission," Cortana stated.

"It was needless death that could have been avoided. Who are you and why are you here?" Soldier: 76 questioned, making his disapproval clear.

After a second, a deep male voice answered, "Sierra 117."

"We're here in this room because we want to return to our fight, not become involved in yours," Cortana finished.

"You killed a bunch of Helix security people because you want to return home?" 76 asked, slightly incredulous.

"They were arresting us under the charge of Overwatch activity. Under UNSC wartime laws, we could not surrender to that demand," Cortana explained.

Mercy interjected, "You did not need to kill them, though. This isn't your world, according to you at least."

"Forgive the Chief's excesses, he's used to fighting enemies that are actually a threat. As for the Arbiter, well, restraint isn't something they teach Elites."

Winston seemed interested in that as he inquired, "That is what its species is called? We have never seen them before. I had assumed it was a unique being, some genetic experiment."

"You don't believe us," Cortana said, sounding unsurprised.

Once again Jack Morrison spoke up as he replied, "You come out of nowhere, kill innocent people, ignore any laws you may break in the process, steal two Talon agents and an Overwatch operative, then come to us demanding information? This conversation so far has made it quite clear that you're in a hurry, but you'll need to slow down and explain if you're asking for our help."

"As you wish," Cortana retorted, exasperation evident in her tone. "Our decision to follow your agent's advice to meet with you is because you might have information that could help us, specifically related to several of the Omniums that were apparently shut down after the Omnic Crisis. We have a war to return to, so if you are unwilling to help, we'll find our own way back. As for your complaints, they are noted, but we will not be restrained. I'm sure you understand, seems like Overwatch wasn't too different before it was shut down."

"That's the problem!" Jack yelled, bristling at Cortana's comment . After taking a second to calm down, he explained, "Overwatch collapsed because of collateral. The world needs us, recent events have made that clear, but people refuse to see that. Talon's influence grows, Omnic tensions rise, and the cycle repeats. We don't need you coming in and making things worse, whether or not your from here."

There was no physical reaction from the armored giant, but the irritation in the female voice was easy to hear as she responded, "Then help us leave. All we want is information on possible ruins in Omniums in Russia and the Outback. Tracer said that someone named 'Winston' might be able to help, so direct us to him and we can be on our way."

"I know as much as anyone, but that isn't much," Winston said, drawing the Chief's attention to him once more. After glancing at Morrison and getting a resigned nod of acquiescence, he continued, "Most of what I've heard are rumors, along with a couple reports from before the Fall. Apparently the Omnica Corporation found something in those locations, ruins of some kind as you said. They built the Omniums later, hiding whatever it was that they found. When the factories were first deactivated, no sign was found of anything and it was dismissed as false. After the Omnic Crisis, though, Overwatch found multiple Omniums around the world where the Omnics had dug up and then sealed off passages."

"With the Crisis so close to catastrophic for the world, no one wanted to take any chances. Attempts were made to get through the blockages, but nothing was ever found. We made sure that there was no signs of activity underground before leaving. Any further exploration was halted with the Fall of Overwatch, the destruction of the Omnium in Australia, and the recent reactivation of the Russian Omnium," Winston finished.

There was a short pause before Cortana spoke up once more, "Not all exploration, apparently. The two junkers that we made friends with, for lack of a better description, apparently found something in the ruins of that Omnium. If it's what we think it is, then the Omnics had the right idea by sealing it away."

"You know what's down there?" Morrison questioned sharply. At the Chief's look, he explained, "I was on the team that cleared the Australian Omnium. The details are classified, however."

"Overwatch found something," Cortana said softly and without a shred of doubt. "There was no way to go any further, though. Probably a door, no way to open it, even with force. It would have been one that led to the outside, so large, tall, solid, shaped like a blunt arrow. How close am I?"

Several seconds passed as red met gold, each soldier staring at the other. Red eventually lost as Morrison growled, "Correct. What is it?"

"You've given us some knowledge, so I will return the favor. The structure was built by a species called the Forerunners. They died 100,000 years ago, at least where we come from. I don't know how they got here or why they built a facility on your world, but I can tell you that you never had a chance of forcing your way past those doors."

"So what's your plan for 'em?" McCree asked lazily.

Cortana seemed split between amused and resigned as she answered, "Knock politely, probably."

"What, it'll just open up for your royal highness?" the former Blackwatch agent asked with a mocking smile.

Chief glanced at Tracer for a moment before turning back as Cortana responded, "Your friend already knows this, so let me just fill you in. According to the two we picked up, something down there wants our attention. We plan on meeting it, as bad an idea as that may be."

Winston huffed and argued, "The entire place is irradiated from the attack by the Liberation Front. Even junkers stay away from it, so I don't know the two you spoke of made it through, but it won't be as easy as just walking in."

"Getting in isn't the problem, it's getting back out that usually proves a bit more difficult," Cortana replied.

"And you want our help." Morrison said.

Cortana replied, "We came looking for information, which you gave. Thank you for that, but we are not asking you to send in what few agents you have. Our own ally stayed behind to avoid some difficulties that could arise from his presence."

"You said that you were called." The voice of Ana Amari immediately caught the attention of the Chief as he turned towards her while she continued, "Whatever is down there has to be alive in some way. You know this. Why would you turn away help?"

"How many agents could actually survive the ruins of the Omnium?" Cortana pointed out.

Ana countered, "Not all, but some. You are convinced that anyone we send would not come back. We may not be at our strongest, be we are not incompetent."

An audible sigh came from Cortana, though it was slightly odd to see no body language to accompany the gesture as the Chief kept his stance. "Forerunner structures have an irritating habit of allowing you in then trying to kill you. While I am sure that you are experienced with fighting the enemies of Overwatch, Forerunner Sentinels are on a different level."

"Yet the junkers were able to get in and out, according to them at least," Tracer mentioned.

"Wouldn't put too much trust in that," McCree argued.

Cortana interjected, "We can ask when we're there."

"So you're desperate to go chasing something that two almost certainly insane individuals told you, even though you're also certain it's a trap?" Soldier:76 asked in slight confusion.

"Their descriptions match what we know, and if the Forerunners came here then they had some way back. At least, that's what we hope, if that's not true then we're stuck here. We'll deal with that if it comes to pass," Cortana responded.

Jack Morrison grumbled for a second before stating, "If you're going wandering around an Omnium, you should have someone that knows the area. We have a few agents that could survive the hazards, but only one is here now."

There was a short pause before Cortana replied, "Our mission will most likely involve acquiring information. I cannot assure you that we can share that information, regardless of if you help us or not. The possibility of your enemies stealing the knowledge we learn is not something that we can allow."

"If you can defeat two Talon agents with such little effort, I don't think that they'll pose much threat to your home," Morrison said.

"There are things down there that we haven't even discovered if Chief is anything to go by. Things we shouldn't know," Tracer said somberly.

Mercy seemed concerned at the odd change in behavior and tone as she leaned forwards and asked, "Are you alright, Lena?"

Tracer smiled at Angela, though it was subdued as she answered, "I'm good, doc. He is right, though. If the Forerunners were more advanced than Chief's people, we can't risk Talon finding out about whatever is down there."

"Oh, Talon is not going to be able to take a Forerunner installation," Cortana told them with amusement.

"Do not underestimate them," Winston warned.

Morrison spoke up before Cortana could reply to that, "We'll allow you your paranoia under two conditions."

"Go ahead," Cortana said slowly, obviously not keen on bargaining.

"We send an agent with you to make sure that you aren't releasing a God Program or something else equally stupid from the Omnium," Soldier:76 began.

Before he could continue, the Chief gave a nod and Cortana replied, "Acceptable, long as they can cooperate."

A scowl came from Morrison as he resumed, "Of course. Two, the Talon operatives you captured are released to Overwatch."

"I have no problem with that," Cortana said. "It was either that or throw them out the airlock. Certainly not going to waste resources keeping them alive if we have what we need."

"You are so callous to all your prisoners?" Mercy asked, disgust in her voice.

Cortana gave a humorless laugh and answered, "We didn't exactly have many prisoners to be callous to, and death was a mercy for anyone unlucky enough to become a prisoner of the Covenant."

"That was your enemy?" Morrison asked, obviously interested in learning more.

He was shut down had as Cortana responded, "It's not important now. Whoever you're sending with us better get their kit together, we'll be heading straight for our target."

"Talon prisoners first," Jack countered.

"No," the Chief stated, leaving no room for disagreement.

It took Morrison a second to process that before he argued, "Reinhardt needs some time to get his armor on, probably something you're familiar with for your own gear. More importantly, our agreement is for you to hand over two prisoners, not their corpses. I am not convinced that we would see them returned alive if you find what you need."

"We may not have the most humane treatment of captives that shot at us, but we don't break our word to allies," Cortana said, insulted. "You will will have your enemies."

"What is their condition?" Mercy questioned.

Cortana huffed and responded, "You are very determined to believe that we are playing some trick."

McCree seemed amused as he explained, "Y'all killed a few dozen people just to avoid arrest. Not saying I wouldn't do the same, but it don't really encourage trust that you wouldn't just put a bullet in their heads and be done with it."

"Waste of ammunition," Chief replied. McCree barked out a laugh at that, drawing a glare from Mercy.

The Overwatch medic turned her attention back to the armored soldier and asked, "Are they wounded, then?"

"As I said earlier, would be easy enough to just space them," Cortana answered. "They weren't shot, if that's what you're worried about. Some damage since they didn't come willingly, but they'll live."

"Define damaged," Ana ordered before Angela could do the same.

It took a second before Cortana replied, "As of this moment, the list of issues with Widowmaker is too long for me to tell you if we want to get anything done today. Obviously the most visible problem is that she's blue, but she also appears the have both retro and anterograde amnesia based on her behavior. Physically, we know that there are several fractures in bones throughout her body, though specifics will have to wait until a medical examination."

"Sombra is in a similar position, as much like Widowmaker there are extensive internal modifications to various aspects of her physiology. It is likely that she obtained a concussion when resisting the Arbiter, however, her most serious injury is a contaminated traumatic comminuted impact fracture throughout the entire left manus."

"Still untreated," Tracer added.

Mercy looked horrified as she demanded, "The pain from that would be debilitating. Leaving such a wound is beyond negligence, only a brute would be so cruel!"

Cortana was unbothered by the doctor's aggressive tone as she responded, "She misunderstood our interrogation as a friendly chat, a notion that we disabused her of just before we left for here, actually. Wasting resources on a hostile element is against UNSC doctrine, especially considering the discovery of Forerunner ruins."

"If the bone is shattered and left unset, she could lose the limb," Mercy stated.

"We warned Sombra to cooperate, she didn't. If she wanted to keep her limbs, she shouldn't have been shooting at us. Considering her attitude, she'll be lucky if a hand is all she loses," Cortana replied callously.

Mercy rose out of her seat as she retorted, "Medical negligence is what you call lucky?!"

"The only luck here for Sombra is that she _might_ come out of this alive," Cortana countered.

Angela snorted derisively and stated, "That is abundantly clear."

"I apparently haven't been clear enough," Cortana responded. "We aren't are here to play nice and join your little crusade against the evils of the world. The presence of Forerunner objects presents a threat to the entire planet, as cliche as that sounds. As good as Overwatch is and as powerful as all the militaries of the world might be, your civilization is not prepared for possible conflict with Sentinels."

"What makes you so capable of dealing with them then?" Soldier:76 questioned.

Cortana was bluntly honest as she replied, "Experience and luck, really."

"Along with the doctors to patch you up afterwards," Mercy said irritably.

"On the rare occasions when they survived encountering Forerunner Sentinels, yes. Usually, though, the only medical assistance would be on a ship in orbit," Cortana countered.

Before Angela could respond to that, Morrison spoke up, "Is that where you're keeping your prisoners?"

"Yeah, it's huge! Its got-"

"Lena," Winston said, cutting off the agent before she could go on.

Cortana sounded amused as she answered, "Yes, we have them secured on board."

"Are they being monitored?" Jack pushed.

"Of course, though Sombra tried to mess with the equipment when she first arrived."

Winston was the next to speak as he interjected, "You are sure that the structure presents a threat?"

"Not positive, no. We know that there is a Forerunner construct of some kind that asked for our presence, and by its description we suspect that it is a Monitor. Considering that such things are only used for important Installations, we erred on the side of caution. Forerunner ruins can be anything from an empty building to an interstellar weapon of mass destruction."

"Interstellar?" Winston asked, surprised at that information.

Tracer once again interrupted, "Told you so."

Winston snorted at that and resumed, "It doesn't matter. Once Reinhardt is ready, he will meet you at the ship you arrived here in. Make sure that whatever is there isn't a threat, we'll deal with the rest afterwards."

"You're trusting them?!" Morrison asked sharply, glaring at Winston.

"Don't have much of a choice, do we?" the scientist questioned.

Ana interrupted, "There's always a choice."

"You saw what was down there," Winston argued, directing his words towards Soldier:76. "Whatever it is, it wasn't built by Omnica. If Talon somehow finds out about it, they might try to claim it themselves. Can we risk that?"

Jack sighed, leaning back as he responded, "Understood."

"We'll alert you when we're on our way back," Cortana stated as the Chief turned away. No one stopped him as he left, though Genji followed the armored human back to the bulky transport that he and Tracer had arrived in.

Shortly afterwards, the heavy clomping of boots signaled the arrival of Reinhardt at the shuttle pad. After exchanging some words with Genji, the German made his way into the back of the alien shuttle. Looking up from the MA5 that he had been working on, Chief glanced at Reinhardt's hammer, exchanged a nod with the Overwatch agent, and headed towards the cockpit.

* * *

For all his years and the countless missions he had participated in, Reinhardt had never seen a transport quite like the one he was on. Then again, no else had either from what he had been told on his way to the shuttle pad. Helping an alien soldier infiltrate a destroyed Omnium and break into an underground structure only added to the new experiences.

It was only once they had landed that Reinhardt was able to evaluate his mission partner in combat. As soon as the back hatch had opened, the highly disciplined movements of the Chief as he checked the area proved that Reinhardt did not need to worry about babysitting. While that was nice when it came to combat, it was a concern considering the largely unknown nature of Overwatch's newest ally.

Glancing around the area, Reinhardt determined that they had landed somewhere near the remains of the Omnium's fusion core. A quick examination of the map that Athena was providing to his helmet confirmed that, only necessary as the debris scattered around the area could throw off anyone less experience with such buildings. Hefting his hammer, Reinhardt moved forwards, ready to activate his barrier but doubting that it would be necessary. Anything that might attack them would have been killed by residual radiation long ago.

Reinhardt took one last look at the route Athena had given before turning back to his charge. While the Chief kept his focus, and therefore rifle, on the world around them, he did acknowledge Reinhardt's attention with a slight turn of his head. Trusting his ally to at least listen to him, Reinhardt said, "The objective is nearby. We will be cutting close to the fusion core, though."

"Affirmative," was the Chief's curt response.

Accepting the brusk reply in stride, Reinhardt began making his way through the destruction around them. That they had gotten as close to the objective as they had was impressive, though it helped that the alien shuttle seemed capable of adjusting to the rubble it had landed on. Beyond that open space, however, there was no easy path through the rubble. Twisted metal and burnt concrete spread out in all directions, unsurprising considering debris had been flung for kilometers around after the explosion of the core.

They were forced to backtrack several times due to unstable structures or impassable obstacles. While Reinhardt knew he could probably charge through the blockages, the possibility of causing a chain collapse held him back. Even so, there were multiple points where the two armored giants had to pry apart wreckage to make a path.

By the time they finally reached their destination on the surface, Reinhardt had gotten a good measure for the strength of the Chief in both armor and in body. As far as Reinhardt had seen, nothing had been able to scratch the paint of the armor, let alone the metal itself. The man inside seemed just as unfazed by the wreckage, though the rifle that had been sweeping the area at first was now attached to the Chief's back to free up his hands.

As they entered the surprisingly intact room that Athena had directed them to, Reinhardt took a second to note the light debris that had been shifted to allow access to a door. Aside from that one feature, however, the rest of the area was surprisingly bare. Unlike most of the other buildings levelled by the Omnium's fusion core, this one still stood as a testament to its importance. Considering the simple but sturdy design of four walls and a roof made out of concrete, that wasn't surprising.

The only interruptions in the material were two doors, with the first being the one that Reinhardt and the Chief had entered by and the second being across from them. Both were large enough to allow the two fighters through without issue, though it was hard to imagine that mining equipment would've fit in the space. This implied that the structure was built after the excavations to keep people out, or perhaps something inside if the Chief was to be believed.

At this point, however, the large metal door was doing neither, instead hanging open and allowing the two armored soldiers a look into the dark passage before them. As the Overwatch agent hesitated slightly, Chief continued ahead without breaking stride. In a practiced motion, he pulled the weapon from his back as light from the side of his helmet lit up the tunnel.

Reinhardt felt slightly out of place as the rearguard but raised no issue with it as the two began descending. Within seconds the only source of illumination was the light provided by the Chief, though that was sufficient since there was only one direction to go. That was quite literal it seemed as the path continued unerringly forward, bringing them directly under the center of the Omnium by Reinhardt's map. Even then, however, they continued forward, closing in on the edge of the ruins above by the time their objective could be seen.

Due to the encroaching blackness around them, there was very little warning that the tunnel had reached its end. Rather than a blank wall of metal or rock, which was what Reinhardt had been expecting, the sides of the tunnel split away, leaving the two in a room of unknown size. The Master Chief elected to ignore the empty space, however, as he came to a stop several meters away from the far side of the room.

Much to Reinhardt's surprise, a large slab of metal blocked their way. The material was oddly dull, reflecting little of the Chief's bright helmet lights, but it was easy to tell that the surface was unmarred except for tall door set into the structure.

This would be the barrier that Overwatch had never breached, at least according to what Athena had told Reinhardt on the way out here. Any attempts to find or force an opening had all been met with failure, leaving the project abandoned as Overwatch became embroiled in controversy.

Reinhardt stopped his thoughts and brought up his barrier, lighting up the entire room with a soft, blue glow. A surprised glance came from the Chief, but no words were exchanged as the two made sure that they were indeed alone down here. Once that was done, the Overwatch agent let the makeshift light go out, content with the area and also quite curious as to how the Chief planned to get past what an entire international organization could not.

Apparently there wasn't much of a plan as the green soldier walked towards the door, examining the area in detail. Reinhardt was tempted to voice his amusement at the thought that something had been missed by whatever team Overwatch had had down here, but he kept his silence for the moment. After a few more seconds, the Chief once more stood at the center of the door, staring forwards at the metal, rifle held in a relaxed carry.

Figuring that the soldier was talking to the AI companion that was with him when he met with the Overwatch leadership, Reinhardt plopped his hammer down and took a knee to wait. It was only several seconds later that the Master Chief reached out to the door, laying a palm flat against it.

The next second was a blur even to Reinhardt's enhanced senses as the door began to open with a soft hiss. Surging to his feet, the Overwatch agent put his surprise to the side and took up position beside his ally, hammer at the ready. As he did so, Reinhardt noted the Chief taking a step back as his assault rifle snapped into alertness with a speed that was not humanly possible.

Ready as they would ever be, the two watched as the door split into two pieces and then slid to the side, allowing them a view down the brilliantly lit hallway. Neither moved as the doors finished opening, leaving them staring into the Forerunner structure.

Amongst the remains that littered the floor, a distinctly human skull stared back.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy, will try not to leave it hanging for too long.**

 _-evevee_


End file.
